


Destroyer

by helldyke420



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Amputation, Body Horror, Canon Compliant, Gore, Graphic Descriptions of blood, Kurloz Makara/Meulin Leijon (past) - Freeform, M/M, Manipulation, Manipulation comes with the territory of voodoos though, Medical, Mituna Captor/Latula Pyrope (mentioned) - Freeform, Vomit, implied sex, removal of the tongue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2019-10-29 11:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17806793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helldyke420/pseuds/helldyke420
Summary: This is a story of a young man who thinks he knows what he's doing. But he doesn't, and neither does anyone else, except for whatever entity has taken up residence inside his head.We follow Kurloz from when he decides to take up the holy vow of silence, all the way to the bitter end.





	1. Chapter 1

Kurloz looked at himself in the mirror. The mirror was dirty, partially obscuring his reflection, but he could see into it well enough. That’s all he needed. He took a deep breath, looking at his face as he knew it. This was going to change everything about him, and there was no going back once he started this process.

His messiahs had given him a secret, a mission to complete, and he had slipped up straight away, the terror and brilliance of the plan making him scream in his sleep, deafening his matesprit.  
No, this would not happen again. He had a plan, he knew what to do. What he had to do.

His face was clear of his paint, it would only aggravate the wounds once he started. Once he worked up the courage. Once he just. Let himself be in this moment, and accept his place. His whole life was accepting his place. 

He had never before been special, not before the game. Maybe his voodoos a bit stronger, his ... tendencies to cause stirs nothing more than teenage proclivities. Nothing interesting. Who would have guessed his talent for manipulating .... twisting the odds and the perception of others would come in handy. And so here he was, here they all were, stuck in this game that, though seemingly endless, will finally come to an abrupt end soon. He sighs softly, looking at his tools. This was ... going to hurt. That was fine. Everything hurt here anyway. A knife sat on an iron, heating up the blade. It was burning hot now, ready to go. A cup for water, a cloth for blood, soap to clean the external wounds. On the back of the sink, a thick needle for upholstery, and thread to match it, scissors nearby. He wasn't looking to do crafts here, though he supposed this would be art in its own way. Suffering and commitment ... a testimony to how devoted he was.

He looks back in the mirror, and tries a sharp grin. No more of that in the future. His teeth have always been sharp, deadly really, and perfect for what he was about to do. He sticks his tongue out at his reflection. Well. Showtime.

He bites down.

He braces against the sink as he finds the task harder to finish than he thought. His teeth are almost together, almost, almost- His eyes well up in tears as he grabs the knife, the blade hot enough now to finish this properly. He grabs the tip of his tongue, and pulls it taut, and finds it hard not to cry out in pain. The blade makes it through the rest of the way in one motion, sizzling dangerously against what remained of his tongue as he cauterizes the wound, stopping the bleeding. He holds as long as he can before dropping it in the sink, and he allows himself to cry for a moment. Purple tinted tears drop down, sizzle off the still hot knife, drip down the drain. Blood pours from his open mouth, staining his skin purple. He looks at the mirror again.  
Everything is different now. He just has to accept that.

 

He shakily takes the cloth he has nearby, and wipes his eyes, and then around his mouth. The knife did what it had to, and he no longer felt his tongue gushing blood. That was good, at least. He fills the cup with water, sips some, spits. He does that until it runs clear enough, clear enough to go ahead and move on.

He curses himself for not having the foresight to thread the needle before this ... his shaky hands made it hard to maneuver. But he needed to be strong. He could do this. He could finish this.  
The pain was hard to ignore, no, impossible, but he presses on. The cord goes through the eye of the needle, and he sighs a little in relief. He ties it off, allowing plenty of room to do what needed to be done.

 

He starts on the inside, pushes the needle behind his lip, and then moves just above it. He positions it in the mirror, allowing the spot to tent to indicate where it would go through. He looks, for a moment, and then pushes. The needle moves through his skin achingly slow, he could feel it move through the muscle, millimeter by millimeter. Finally the needle moves through, the point coming out the other side. The wound begins to dribble blood down, over his lips and chin. The stream is small, but steady. He grits his teeth and pulls the string all the way through, leaving it taut. He pushes the needle in again, just under his bottom lip, directly under the first stitch. The pain doesn't ease, nor does he grow accustomed to it. Such is life.

 

He pushes through, stitch after stitch, achingly slow, until his lips are sewn neatly shut. He ties the cord off, and snips the extra thread off. He breathes deeply, looking at himself in the mirror. He tries to open his mouth. There's minimal slack, barely enough to part his lips to breathe through, and it hurts like a motherfucker. He grins at himself, blood dripping from his wounds and plinking into the sink. Perfect.

His shaky hands pick the cloth up once more, rinsing it in the sink to get some of the blood off, before pouring soap in it, gently cleaning the wounds. His entire jaw area felt swollen- probably was. Probably would be for a while. No matter ... it would be worth it in the end, wouldn't it? His claws delicately traced the now clean stitches, staring at his face in the mirror. So this was his face now. This was his life. Not another word would be spoken, barely a sound would pass from his lips in the most extreme circumstance ... He finds himself slightly saddened at the loss ... but there were ways around ... If only he had thought to say something meaningful before ... before he...

 

The world is pain. The world is dark. He barely realizes he's passing out before he does so, consciousness lost before he hit the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> interlude. world building. moirail stuff. hating kankri. this has it all

Waking up was jarring. He sits up with a start, eyes flying open. He’s not yet fully aware, resulting in him smacking his forehead against the sink. He tries to hiss in pain, but the stitches keep his lips in place, and a spike of pain jolts through his jaw. His teeth clench together behind closed lips, trying to refrain from any more pained noises. It would just make it worse. He presses his lips together and sits up again, minding the sink this time. His hands brace against it as he gets his footing, and looks at himself again in the mirror.

Well … he supposed it could be worse. The entire area is swollen badly, and he can’t say he didn’t expect it. He glances at the clock on the wall. He wasn’t out for long, thirty minutes, tops. He knew when he started, but he supposed he should have looked at the clock before passing out. What a fool he was. He snorted at his own thoughts, and immediately regretted it. Messiah help him this was bad. His teeth click together firmly behind locked lips, trying to deal with the wave of pain overtaking him. There’s a headache brewing in the back of his skull, and he can feel that he’d lost control of his voodoos while passed out, the dark energy making the room colder. He breathes slowly, trying to pull himself back together. His yellow sclera is tinted lavender, and as he focuses on his eyes, they slowly go back to normal. He breathes easier, and backs away from the sink, standing straight.

As he moves, he feels his shirt cling to him oddly, and down at the clothes he was wearing. Purple blood had run down the shirt he put on for it, a simple black one. He holds the t shirt away from him, a little irritated, and strips it off. That was probably ruined. Fine. He throws it on the floor. He was in too much pain to do anything except go to sleep again, but he had to at the very least shower and clean his mouth. He pads out of the bathroom, into the hall. The air is still - the silence feels heavy. Dust rests on the random piles of shit in the hall he couldn’t be bothered to take care of. No use to now - all of it would be history soon enough. He would die, and all of it would be erased. He tells himself that’s fine … his whole life meant exactly nothing to the universe, and that was okay. He pulls himself out of it, and walks down to his respiteblock.

He’s a much different person than he was at the beginning of all this, yet his room remained the same. He eyes his pile, and then shakes his head, moving towards his husktop. This drastic act of commitment would make up for that. Hopefully. It had a double purpose of course, but she didn’t need to know that. He opens trollian, looking at the rainbow of people online. They were all bored out of their skulls, he knew, constantly online in a bid to have anyone reach out. He could feel their frustration whenever he was around them, seeping out of them, filling rooms. He had a habit of making it worse for his own amusement, he had to admit.

He’d have to let them all know about what he’s done. He pauses at this. No he doesn’t … he only has to tell Meulin. She’d take care of it. If not, well, he supposed the motherfuckers would have to find out in person. As soon as it heals a little, of course. His claw traces the stitches as he thinks, and clicks on Meulin’s handle.

taciturnCharientism [TC]  began trolling amourCreator [AC]

TC: Meulin  
TC: We need to talk.  
AC: (=^-ω-^=) < HI PURRLOZ!!!!!!  
AC: ヾ(=°・°=)ノ < IS EFURRYTHING OKAY???????  
AC: (^・x・^) < IT'S NOT ABOUT THE NIGHTMARE AGAIN IS IT?? I TOLD YOU IT'S OKAY!! YOU DON'T HAVE TO APPURRLOGIZE AGAIN!!!!!  
TC: No.  
TC: Well.  
TC: I've had to do something. You're going to be upset. But I don't want you to come over.  
AC: (^・_・^) < PURRLOZ I HAVE TO SAY YOU'RE NOT EXACTLY FILLING ME WITH CONFURDENCE!!!!!!!!  
AC: (^・o・^) < ARE YOU OKAY????? FURST YOU CHANGE YOUR QUIRK ... AND YOU'VE BEEN MORE PURRYPTIC THAN USUAL!!!!!  
TC: I've been thinking about it. And I guess it's probably time a motherfucker learned to SILENCE himself. PERMANENTLY.  
TC: The worst is over. I'm healing now. Shouldn't be too long before I show my motherfucking face again, unfortunately for the rest of our motherfuckin' FRIENDS.  
TC: I know they'll be glad for some holy silence from this motherfucker truly.  
AC: (=^・ェ・^=) < PURRLOZ, STOP BEING CAGEY!!! TELL ME EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH I NEVER SHOULD HAVE LEFT YOUR HIVE!!!!!  
TC: I cut out my MOTHERFUCKING tongue.  
TC: And stitched my GODSDAMNED lips together.  
TC: When I make a mistake.  
TC: I never make it again.  
AC: (=°・°=) < PURRLOZ WHAT WERE YOU THINKING???? I'M COMING OVER RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!! THERE HAS TO BE SOMETHING WE CAN DO TO ... TO FIX THIS!!!!!  
TC: There's nothing to do. Everything is as it should be. Rest secure in that.  
TC: Don't come over. You won't be able to get in.  
TC: Not until I heal. It shouldn't take long.  
AC: ヾ(=°・°=)ノ < BUT PURRLOZ!!!!!!!  
taciturnCharientism [TC]  ceased trolling amourCreator [AC]

Kurloz stares at the screen, eyeing over the brief conversation. It was unfortunately a necessity to remain in his hive during this. It wasn’t part of the plan, per-say, but he refused to be seen like this. He didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of any of them. Mituna was the only one who he trusted like that, but he’d never be able to tell him the Plan. He wouldn’t understand that he was trying to help them. None of them knew their fates were already set, all the way down the line, even after death.

Meulin must have already started telling the rest of them. She was like that. She just wanted to help, but there was no help for him. The people who cared about him consisted solely of Meulin and Mituna. He was sure plenty of them would be curious though, he may have various unwanted messages in the coming days. He eyes his block’s door for a moment, and then stands up from his chair, stretching like a cat. He leaves the room and scans his surroundings again, like something may have gotten in. Nothing would have, of course. He’s not an amateur. He could feel the energy of the vicinity, and the only beings in his land were the imps. They were too afraid of him, having faced his voodoos and spiked club enough times.

Distantly, his trollian pings. And pings again, and again. That must be Mituna, but he also needed to take care of his mutilations. His moirail would understand. Well … he would understand the need to not let his mouth get infected. He steps into the kitchen, the varying darkness levels making his slitted pupils expand as he stepped from dark room to darker room. Day would start soon, he notes distantly.

He busies himself. The task at hand. Of course. He opens a cupboard. Though nearly empty, it has what he needs, a container of sea salt. He vaguely remembered his brothers and sisters at home using this to disinfect after getting body mods. Supposedly it even eased pain.Supposedly. He grits his teeth as the dull ache of his tongue gives him an extra special reminder of what he was now missing, a wave of pain rolling in as he must have shifted what remained involuntarily. He tries to busy himself in making a saline solution. Not totally sterile, but whatever got the job done. He pours a little into a bowl, and then heats the water up from the tap. He doesn’t know how he still has running water, but he guesses he shouldn’t question it. Mysterious ways, and all of that. He runs it for a few minutes before filling the bowl with it. It clouds quickly, and he mixes it so it’s all dissolved. He loses himself for a second, watching it. The dull pain made his head foggy, and the overflowing well of chucklevoodoos was hard to control when he was like this. Hurt, alone, unsure. He pauses at that. No. He couldn’t be unsure. He had faith, he knew that the way was laid before him carefully. All he needed to do was follow it. He closes his eyes, and takes a second to push down his uncertainty. No, no. It was too late to go back, even if he wanted to. He looks back at the bowl, and picks it up. Well. Hopefully this didn’t sting like a bitch.

He pours the solution through the small part he can make between his lips. It does burn. He barely manages to keep from inhaling it like an idiot, setting the bowl down on the counter and braces himself against the edge, swishing the disgusting saltwater around his mouth. After a moment he spits it out, the process a bit difficult between the recent body modifications performed. He grimaces, looking at the purple tinged mess going down the drain with mild disgust. He estimated that the tongue should take a few weeks … the stitches maybe one. He hopes. Highbloods healed faster, but these were, well, extreme. Maybe he should give them both a month. He sighs and runs a hand through his mess of hair, claws catching on the many snarls he can never get out. He needed a shower, and his stomach not so kindly reminded him that he’d have to figure out this whole eating business, fast. He looks at the stairs, and decides to start with a shower. Eating was not something he was looking forward to.

It doesn’t take long to get clean, even with the care he shows his stitches. Throughout the shower he can hear his husktop going off as people message him. It’s driving him crazy. It’s probably Mituna … could be Meulin again. Or Kankri, since he likes to stick his nose in everyone’s business. Probably not anyone else, waiting for Meulin to spread the gossip. Not worth it to contact him themself. They all thought he was an idiot, he knew. If he could find it in him to care enough he would have done something about it long ago. They’d just have to learn the hard way.

Finding clean clothes was an event. He hadn’t had much of a motivation to do laundry recently. He opts for the cleanest shirt and leggings he can find. It would have to do. He considers spending his healing time cleaning up his trashed hive, but he doesn’t really feel like doing anything. How much longer would it even exist? A sweep? Not even? He wasn’t sure, only knowing the basic course of events. Not even that, just the things he had to trigger. He feels a small amount of guilt, but he pushes it down. He’s truly excellent at that. Suppressing, removing emotions from a situation. Or at least he tried to be.

He didn’t particularly feel very social, but he opens up trollian. His head ached - more so than usual from his chucklevoodoos. There’d been an intense sort of … pressure going on. He had to chalk it up to immense stressed placed onto his person, recently. He grits his teeth a little as the pressure swells and subsides a little, worse than before. He glances over at the pipe on his desk, but shakes it off. The smoke would only make his mouth hurt more. Instead he busied himself with managing to reply to people. He was right, mostly messages from Mituna, and it looks like several from Kankri. Nosy prattling idiot. He didn’t have the energy to reply to him, but he opens up the conversation.

clairvoyantGoliard [CG] began trolling taciturnCharientism[TC]

CG: Kurl9z, I've 6een hearing s9me rather disturbing rum9rs a69ut y9ur recent activities and they are certainly tr9ubling. I just had t9 c9nfirm these with y9u 9f c9urse, s9 if they are false I might set 9ur fell9w tr9lls right, and st9p this senseless g9ssip.  
CG: 9f c9urse, als9, it's n9t p9lite t9 talk a69ut pe9ple in their a6sense regardless, and I shall st9p pe9ple fr9m talking a69ut it at all. 6ut I w9uld like t9 kn9w exactly what is g9ing 9n, as I am the leader 9f this rag-tag gr9up 9f tr9lls, and I sh9uld 6e up t9 date 9n everything that is g9ing 9n. N9w I d9 ask y9u that if the rum9rs ARE true that y9u appr9priately tag each trigger.  
CG: I als9 9f c9urse understand that this t9pic is very sensitive, and if y9u w9uld like me t9 add Mituna t9 the c9nversati9n t9 m9derate y9ur intense c99l6l99d em9ti9ns, we a6s0lutely can d9 that. There's n9 shame in needing y9ur m9irail t9 help y9u in y9ur time 9f need. 6ut als9 if the st9ries are true, y9u did d9 this t9 y9urself, s9 I can't imagine y9u're 9verly tied up a69ut it. H9wever I understand that c99ler6l99ds with pr9clivities t9wards psychic p9wers tent t9 6e very sensitive, and I think it w9uld 6e a very p9werful interacti9n f9r y9u t9 em6race y9ur m9re sensitive side.

taciturnCharientism [TC]  has blocked clairvoyantGoliard [CG]

He rolls his eyes at the conversation, blocking him without much thought towards it. Useless talking with him, and of course he wants to mediate between him and Mituna. He’s such a quad whore, even when he claims to be celibate. Probably wants to mentally file away the conversation for when he’s alone in his sad little pile. He didn’t have the mental capacity to waste on him, not with the pressure in his head getting worse and worse. Kankri is irritating at the best of times.

_And useless right now._

He pauses for a second. Honestly that was truthful enough, though he wondered why, exactly, he would think that. He brushes it off, and clicks open Mituna’s conversation. No use dwelling on it.

technophileAgonized [TA] began trolling taciturnCharientism

TA: Y0U H4V3 T0 83 J0K1NG  
TA: M3UL1N JUST 7R0LL3D M3 480U7 Y0U 4PP4R3N7LY R1PP1NG Y0UR FUCK1NG T0NGU3 0U7  
TA: WHY 7H3 FUCK D1D Y0U D0 7H47 Y0U C0LL054L 1D107  
TA: JU57 83C4U53 Y0U FUCK3D H3R 5H17 D035N'7 M34N Y0U H4V3 T0 G0 4ND D0 50M37H1NG L1K3 7H15  
TA: 5H17H34D R35P0ND 70 M3 I KN0W Y0U D0N'7 H4V3 J4CK 0R 5H17 70 83 D01NG  
TA: Y0U C4N'7 IGN0R3 M3 F0R3V3R  
TA: 1'M V3RY ANN0Y1NG  
TA: Y0U'R3 4N 455H0L3 I CAN 3V3N S33 7H47 Y0U'R3 0NL1N3!  
TC: Motherfucker just left his husktop on. You know how it is.  
TA: N0 1'M N07 5UR3 1 D0 KN0W H0W 17 15, 35P3C14LLY 1N R3G4RD5 70 R3C3N7 L1F3 CH01C35, M4D3 8Y Y0U.  
TC: Nobody is really going to understand how bad I fucked up. But this had to happen. You have to know, despite it all, this keeps us on track.  
TA: N0 W3 4850LU7L3Y 4R3N'7, W3'R3 4LL G01NG 70 D13. P41NFULLY.  
TC: Well, we both knew that from the second we loaded the game.  
TA: Y34H  
TA: 8U7 Y0U 571LL ... N0, N0, 3V3N R3G4RD1NG 7H47 Y0U 5H0ULDN'7 H4V3 D0N3 ... 7H47!  
TC: Well. It's done. There's nothing to be done about this.  
TA: 1 GU355  
TA: Y0U'V3 G07 M3 50 FUCK1NG W0RR13D, Y0U 455H0L3.  
TA: Y0U D0N'7 UND3R574ND H0W 73RR1FY1NG 17 W45 70 G37 H3R M3554G35!  
TC: I never intended to upset anyone. Just to atone. But I don't expect anyone to fully understand, and I can't explain it, but I just ... I had to.  
TA: 1 D0N'7 UND3R574ND, 7RU3. 1 GU355 1 D0N'7 H4V3 70, 1 JU57 W15H 1 C0ULD H4V3 74K3N C4R3 0F Y0U. D01NG 7H47 4L0N3 W45 5TU1P1D D4NG3R0U5.  
TC: You would have stopped me. And it wasn't pretty to see.  
TA: 1'M N07 4 PU55Y. 8U7 WH473V3R.  
TA: WH3N C4N 1 C0M3 0V3R?  
TC: Should be about a month until I heal.  
TA: 1'M N07 W4171NG F0R Y0UR DUM8455 70 H34L 83F0R3 1 533 Y0U N3X7.  
TA: Y0U'LL 3ND UP N07 8RU5H1NG Y0UR H41R 4ND 1N 4 M0N7H Y0UR H41R 15 G0NNA 83 M4D3 OF N07H1NG 8U7 M475.  
TC: I don't want anyone to see me like this.  
TA: 1 D0N'7 C4R3. 1 N33D 70 M4K3 5UR3 Y0U'R3 N07 G0ING T0 70 S74RV3, 4ND  
TA: 1'M W0RR13D 48OU7 ... 50M3 7H1NG5 I'V3 833N 5331NG. 7H3 V1510N5 4R3 G3771NG 50 8LURRY, 8U7 50M37H1NG 15 480U7 70 H4PP3N, 4ND 17'5 84D.  
TC: You can come over tomorrow night. But I'm kind of ... not great company.  
TA: WH3N H4V3 1 3V3R C4R3D 480U7 7H47. 1'V3 533N Y0UR 84D 3P150D35, Y0U'V3 533N M1N3, 4ND W3'R3 571LL 70G37H3R. 1 C4R3 480U7 Y0UR S7UP1D 455.  
TC: I care about your stupid ass too.  
TC: I have to go to bed though. My headaches are getting bad.  
TA: PR0848LY 83C4U53 Y0U R1PP3D A MU5CL3 0U7 0F Y0UR M0U7H.  
TC: It could be anything.  
TC: <> pale for you.  
TA: P4L3 F0R Y0U 700 <>

taciturnCharientism ceased trolling  technophileAgonized

Kurloz stands from the husktop, small smile playing on his lips. Even when he did something like this and Mituna was mad at him, he always was happy to talk to him. He made the pressure in his head recede, and while it wasn’t a perfect cure, it worked enough for him to feel functional again, especially on his really bad days, when the well in his head felt like it would flow over and fill the space around him with dark fear. Mituna didn’t care, he would deal with it until he could calm down. He himself had a collection of scars when his moirail lost control and was electric, little licks of energy coming off of him and zapping both of them. He could take it, over and over, until he could calm him down enough they can both fall asleep together.

The pressure in his head grows worse, and he lets out a soft growl, rubbing his temples. Why was it this bad? He felt the air grow colder around him as he lost a little control, voodoos filling the space. It was visibly darker, even with the sun rising on his planet. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Control. Bring it in. Come back to me. He’s forceful about it, unable to relax and command calm. He feels himself lose a little more, and fear spikes in him. This wasn’t good. He had to retain control, he was in control, and he wasn’t terrified of what his own mind could do to him.

_The psionic will be a problem._

He pauses at that thought. That didn’t make any sense. Why would he ever think that? A moment passes, and the pressure swells again, making him flinch, eyebrows furrowing against it.

_There will come a time you have to choose. The psionic will be a problem._

The pressure in his head grows worse, and then decreases. He can breathe again. He sits for a moment, breathing heavily, shaking a bit. The pressure is still there, but barely. Barely. He tries to spool himself back in, a bobbin that’s been unwound is useless, after all. His voodoos comeback to him, slowly. Filling the well back up. The waters are calm, but he is still afraid.

Whatever this was … It wasn’t voodoos. It was foreign. And it’s terrifying to think that all his thoughts were not his own anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah a second chapter! a first for me! thanks for reading, ill try to update soon. i cant promise what next chapter might hold, i kind of roll with what comes to me. i have no outline, no plan, and no braincells


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the plot moves forward. a meeting is called. voodoos are used. kurloz is totally in control over all the situations. all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on desktop, you can mouse over damara's speech and see a translation! on mobile, you just get to cry sadly and open up google translate. :o)

There was something squirming next to him.  
His brow furrows in his sleep, pressing his forehead against the warm body sleeping with him, unwilling to wake fully. He lets out a soft growl as the wiggling doesn’t let up, and feels them flick the tip of his horn, sending a vibration down it and into his skull. That makes him sit up quick, glaring at his partner. Mituna cackles, rolling away from him before he can enact revenge.  
“Finally, dude, I thought you were in a coma!” He laughs and despite Kurloz’s mild irritation he can’t help but grin at him.  
_“I was trying to cuddle with my moirail, what the fuck is wrong with that?”_ He signs, still slow and unsteady. He’d been practicing, and still didn’t know all the signs, but he was passable, enough so that Mituna could understand him. Not that Mituna’s was any better, but it was a learning curve. Mituna tracks his hands and cracks a grin after a moment.  
“It wouldn’t be if it wasn’t halfway through the day, and if you weren’t suffocating me with your bony ass!” He laughs again and gets up, stretching out a little. It wasn’t always ideal to sleep in a pile together, and he could feel a crick in his spine too, from the awkward position he’d held. He sits up, clenching his teeth a little to prevent from opening his mouth wide to yawn. That was the worst, probably, having to yawn and not quite being able to. “Are you gonna get up or what?” Mituna asks, taking off the shirt he’d stolen off Kurloz’s floor to get his bodysuit on.  
_“Or what.”_ He signs, laughing behind sewn lips. Mituna rolls his pupiless eyes, and Kurloz feels his skin buzz with electricity as he’s lifted up, and set on his feet. He isn’t too irritated about being made to get up, but he does miss his warmth. He watches the other finish getting dressed, reaching to pull the zipper up. He does it for him, putting one hand on his hip to keep from startling him as he pulls it up all the way.  
“I woulda gotten it.” He says, pushing him a little.  
_“Wanted to do it for you.”_ He replies, feeling his cheeks heat a little. Mituna laughs, this time less mocking.  
“You’re so sappy sometimes.” Kurloz flashes him a diamond, and he flashes one back. “You should get dressed. Meenah called an “Urgent Meeting” today. Something about motivating us all to do better.” He shrugs. “You know how she is.”  
_“A pushy bitch.”_  
“Well yeah but don’t say that to her face. I’d hate to have to take care of your ass after getting a trident through your abdomen.”  
_“Fish sister could never take me.”_ He signs dismissively. _“I don’t want to go to her meetings. It’s nothing but insults and people talking over one another.”_ Mituna shrugs again.  
“We should go anyway. It’s not anything we can’t handle. Besides, Meulin’s been wanting to actually see you. It’s been a perigee and a half dude, you can’t keep avoiding her.” He sighs through his nose, and grabs something out of his basket, skeletal leggings and a hoodie. “Glad you’ve decided to not be a wiggler about it.” He can hear the grin in his voice, and he flips the other off over his shoulder before taking the clothes he slept in off, beginning to get dressed. “You know she really does miss you.” He says as Kurloz pulls his hoodie on. “She feels like it’s her fault you … you did all that.” Kurloz looks into the darkness of the closet for a moment, collecting his thoughts, before turning around to face the other.  
_“She should know better, I don’t do anything without having my own reasons. I don’t know how she can all up and motherfucking want to see my face again after deafening her, anyway.”_ He signs. He trips on a few words, and feels his face heat again, tinting purple. He hated signing, he decided. He felt like he was stuttering, tripping over his own words. He’s never projected insecurity before, hated that that would be the impression now.  
“She’s sensitive. You know that.” Mituna says, voice firm. “I’m not gonna deal with you being a sad sack of shit over this because that’s ridiculous. None of this situation was her fault, but you’re punishing her for it. You’re not stupid, you know you’re hurting her feelings, you have to.” Kurloz bristles a little bit, glaring at Mituna. He just raises his chin a little, staring him down. Kurloz backs off, relaxing and looking away. After a moment he nods, looking back.  
_“Alright. Yeah. Whatever.”_ He signs back. _“I’m going to go put my face paint on.”_ Mituna smiles a little, satisfied.  
“Good. Mind your stitches, I know you think they’re totally healed but if you get paint in them they’re gonna get infected.”  
_“Not my lusus.”_ He signs flippantly.  
“I am your moirail though.” Mituna replies. Kurloz flashes him a grin before ducking into the ablution block.

He sighs a little as he looks in the mirror. He looks exhausted, honestly, and thinner than ever. He’s always looked too thin, but, for lack of better words, he was starting to look skeletal. Eating is hard. It’s hard and no one understands. He brushes the negativity away, and instead grabs the paint. It’s routine now for him, something he can almost do with his eyes closed. He breathes a little easier as his face is hidden slowly, black around the eyes and gray along his cheekbones, up to his brow, over the bridge of his nose. White everywhere else. He pulls his hand away as he finishes, inspecting his face for flaws. Finding none, he starts to wash his hands.

He feels Mituna’s energy get nearer to him, his hair trying to stand up a little bit at his approach, and feels the door frame creak as he leans against it.  
“Lookin’ good man. You should come over sometime and see my pile.” Mituna says, smile in his voice. Kurloz turns around, done washing his hands, and rolls his eyes at Mituna, smiling. Mituna laughs, and Kurloz grabs the towel hanging over his door, drying his hands off on it. Mituna wordlessly hands him his gloves, and he leans in and presses his lips to his cheek as he takes them. Mituna sputters, pushing him away. “Dude, aw, shit, did you get your paint on me?” He grins and pulls away, shaking his head no.  
_“It’s dry. Mostly.”_ He signs. Mituna scrubs his cheek anyway, pulling his hand back to inspect it, satisfied when it comes away clean. Kurloz kisses his cheek again, and he doesn’t push him away this time.  
“Alright you big purrbeast, we have to get going.” He says as Kurloz wraps him up in a hug. Kurloz rests his chin between Mituna’s twin sets of horns, shaking his head a little. “Yes, we do.” He buries his face in his hair. “Kurloz. Come on.” He murmurs, pushing him off. He backs off. “You said fine before. What’s your deal?” He shrugs. “Spill, dude.”  
_“I just don’t wanna deal with it.”_ He says. His head hurts again, the strange pressure back. It was truly unpleasant, but he didn’t think he could do much about it. He felt like this meant he was supposed to do something, but he didn’t even want to leave the hive.  
“Yeah, dumbass, you’re depressed. But you have to deal with it. You deal with it and then you die, and that’s life.” He sighs, looking away from him for a moment. After a moment he nods.  
_“Fine.”_ Mituna smiles again.  
“Good. Come on, don’t make me carry you.” Kurloz slips his gloves on and follows him downstairs, reluctantly.

It takes a few hops through the transportalizers Horuss rigged to get to Meenah’s hive, a truly gaudy building painted fuschia. It was very her though. He hesitates as Mituna walks forward. He can see that most, if not everyone, have already arrived, though only Damara was outside. She leaned against the wall next to Meenah’s open door, smoking. They locked eyes, and something resonated in his mind. She was a key player, and he needed to move her towards the ultimate goal. He feels a little panic. He just didn’t want this to happen so soon … couldn’t it just be a little longer, having things be normal? The pressure increases, and he refrains from wincing. Of course, no, it had to happen now. How silly to think he could delay the inevitable. He wasn’t anything but a tool, and a tool is useless if it no longer functions efficiently. With that he steps forward, catching up with his moirail.

Damara stands up straight as they approach, putting her joint out on Meenah’s wall, leaving a satisfying little burn mark. He grins a little.  
“Hello losers. あなたは実際にこれに登場していますか?” She asks. Mituna blinks a little, but Kurloz just nods. She grins. “This stupid, nothing get done, no matter what Meenah say. Or Kankri.” She wrinkles her nose a little.  
“He already here?”  
“Of course. Always early, you know. Meenah about to kill him, very funny if ears not bleeding.” She says. “Freak Blood tied upで穏やかで美しくなる. Very nice to see.” Kurloz huffs out a laugh, and Mituna glances between them. He still doesn’t totally get how he can understand her, no matter how many times Kurloz explained. Visualization is the same in every language, even broken East Beforan. The only issue was when she got a little too elaborate in her, well, descriptions. “You two going in?” “Yeah. I had to drag him here, didn’t want to leave his hive.” Mituna says, and Kurloz feels a brief spark of annoyance at being talked about in third person, but … it was sort of necessary now, wasn’t it? “Clown, you do everything he say?” Damara asks. His eyes lock back on hers and he tilts his head a little. He nods. She laughs. “Purrbeast get tongue, I know. 残念ながら、このような口は使用できません。つまらない。” He flips her off, only making her laugh more.  
“Kurloz, come on, let’s go in.” Mituna says, glaring at her. Kurloz puts a hand on Mituna’s head, right between his horns, and ruffles his hair. It wasn’t that serious, but he’d been a little on edge since they arrived. He wasn’t sure why. Damara shrugs and pulls out another joint, lighting it up as they go past her. Kurloz pats her elbow as he passes, and she gives him a grin. His guilt is immeasurable.

Inside is chaos. The only people missing inside were Horuss and Rufioh, and everyone was clearly tied up with each other. Porrim and Aranea sat off in the corner, and Kankri and Meenah are having a … discussion, loudly, in the middle of the room, while Cronus is sitting all bunched up into himself, sulking that no one is talking to him, and Latula and Meulin are talking loudly, almost as if they’re trying to outdo each other. It takes a moment for anyone to see they’ve arrived, until Mituna moves him and himself over to where Latula and Meulin are. Meulin perks up when she sees him, and squeals loudly, jumping up and hugging him tightly. He catches her, holding her for a second, and then sets her down on her feet. She’s beaming when he finally gets her detangled.  
“You MADE it! Omg! I’ve missed you so much! Oh gosh, look at you, you got so much thinner, I bet I could even lift you up now! But I’m so happy you’re here!!!! Look guys, Kurloz is here!” The room falls silent, all eyes on him. This was exactly what he expected. He goes with a smile and a short wave to break the tension, but it doesn’t help. Cronus looks even more nervous. Meulin looks at the group expectantly, and of course Kankri is the first one to recover. Him and his ridiculous tall pants.  
“Kurloz, welcome back. I see that your mutilations have healed sufficiently for you to rejoin us for strategizing. This is very good news, I’m so glad that your decision has only managed to hold us up for a perigee and a half, as inconvenient as that was.” Kankri says quickly, looking him over with half lidded eyes.  
_“And you’re the same shithead as always I see.”_ Kankri bristles a little, looking over at Mituna.  
“What did he say?” Kankri asks sharply.  
“He uh. Said hello.” Mituna said, giving him a sharp look. He just smiled at Kankri. Kankri resumes his relaxed posture at that.  
“I see. This certainly is inconvenient, Kurloz, with you not being able to communicate effectively with us, or translate Damara.” He looks between him, Mituna, and Meulin. “You three certainly are wildcards, aren’t you?” He feels Mituna start to buzz with his psionics, just a little, as he gets irritated. Meulin pouts a little. “Meenah, this is exactly what I mean about your plan. Kurloz and Mituna aren’t stable enough to be in the frontal assault on the king. I think Aranea and Cronus and … you … could handle it. They should only be a secondary resort. But before even that, we truly must all work together, and learn to be okay with each other. We simply can’t be fighting like this.” He says. Kurloz keeps his neutral smile throughout Kankri’s little speech, placing a hand on Mituna’s back to steady him.  
“Can you not talk shit about us to our face?” Mituna grits out. Kankri levels a cool look at him.  
“I would never. I was talking to Meenah.” He says, a little huffy. “If I upset you, I’m truly sorry. I would never intentionally say something to upset my fellow teammates, but I suppose I assumed from the way you tend to speak that you were familiar with friendly criticisms. It appears I was wrong, and I’ll of course update your list of triggers. Later. Right now, I think that if we all sat down and talked to each other, we might really get somewhere. We all need to learn to just connect with each other’s perspective, and then we will really start to work as a team.” Before Kankri can truly break into his stride, they’re interrupted by a little commotion outside, signalling Rufioh and Horuss’s arrival. He can hear Rufioh’s voice, and Damara snapping back  
at him briefly. After a moment of back and forth, Rufioh and Horuss enter, holding hands. Rufioh waves nervously.  
“Hey guys, sorry we’re late.” He laughs softly. He can feel the insecurity oozing off both of them. It could choke him it was so heavy in the air. Meenah breaks the tension, pleasant as always.  
“At least you finally made it.” She grumbles, pouting. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, carefully neutral as always. “Now that you’re done, Kankri, I just want to let you know that your plan is still shit!” Kankri seems to bristle up, and opens his mouth to talk, but Meenah cuts him off. “We did all the glubbin’ talkin’, and now it’s time to make some REEL progress!” She snaps, and points to the room. “You’re all being huge wrigglers aboat all this, and I think we need to toughen you up!”  
“Meenah, I think we should talk this over-” Kankri starts. Kurloz’s ears prick a little as he hears Damara step into the room, observing the situation detachedly. She feels sad, and a little angry. He glances over at her fully, and gives her a thumbs up. Her mood doesn’t change, but she gives him a smile. She relaxes a little against the entrance to the room as Rufioh and Horuss take a seat next to Latula.  
Kurloz is pulled back to what was happening by Meenah’s ranting, suddenly directed at Cronus.  
“We’ll start with you, Cronus, how aboat that!” Cronus looks slightly wounded.  
“What’s wrong with me?” He asks, pointing to himself.  
“What’s WRONG with you? Everythin’! You’re a seadweller, but you’re all caught up with your destiny bullcarp to act like it! You’re a loser, Cronus. Face it.” She grins, self satisfied. Cronus deflates a little.  
“Now Meenah, I really think-” Kankri starts. But Kankri doesn’t get to be in control here, it would seem.  
“And Kurloz!” She turns to him, and he raises an eyebrow. She seems to pause for a moment, but blazes forward. “We can’t have you leaving for a perigee doing something so stupid, we need you to stop fuckin’ around! You’re not takin’ this seriously!” He doesn’t acknowledge her speaking to him other than level, unwavering eye contact. She seems to lose her nerve, and turns to the psionic next to him. “I think we can all agree that Mituna needs to start using his powers for more than just party tricks. When was the last time YOU did anything useful?” She asks, getting back into her stride. No, this wouldn’t be happening. Kurloz steps forward and puts a hand out, setting his hand on her shoulder. She jumps in surprise, and he gets a little rush as he feels her fear. She looks at him, and he just shakes his head, and pushes her back. She puffs up. “Don’t PUSH ME, freakshow! I’m in charge here!” He just smiles, and steps back to Mituna’s side. She wouldn’t press the issue … or she shouldn’t, for her own good.  
“Guys, stop.” Mituna says, taking Kurloz’s hand. “This isn’t a big bulge contest, we can all fucking relax.”  
_“I am relaxed. Just letting fish bitch know her place.”_ Mituna shakes his head.  
“We’re not doing this right now.” He says, and Kurloz nods. Just as long as she knows her place.  
“Just keep him on a leash.” Meenah says, vicious smile on her face again. He doesn’t react to that. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “I’ll tell you when you can sic him on someone.”  
“You don’t have to be such a huge bitch all the time.” Mituna says, irritated.  
“Whatever.” She flips her braids over her shoulder, and turns away. “Damara, let's talk aboat you, why don’t we?”  
“No.あなた自身のトライデント、ふしだらな女とあなた自身をファックしてください.” She says, and Meenah rolls her eyes.  
“Exactly. You don’t bother to talk in our language, and all you do is sit around and smoke, dressed like a loser’s schoolfeed gill pailin’ fantasy. Except you’re not even good at that, since Rufioh decided to go with ponyboy over you.”  
“Uh, hey, listen doll, can we maybe keep that out of this. We’re all like, workin’ through that an’ stuff.” Rufioh laughs nervously.  
“You shut mouth.” Damara hisses at Rufioh.  
“Hey, I’m trying to like, stick up for you too.” He says, putting his hands up defensively. Damara flips him off.  
“Fish bitch fuck off too. You think you know everything? あなたはあなたの醜い顔からあなたの平らなお尻さえ知らない.” She spits at her. Meenah decaptchas her trident. Kurloz would intervene but … he didn’t think he was supposed to. He glanced around. Damara wasn’t well liked in general, and it didn’t appear anyone else would intervene either.  
“I’m just doin’ what’s best for the team. I need you angry!” She snaps.  
“I glad you get what you want, then!” Damara yells back. He tenses as the air gets crackly, and Mituna sighs.  
“Aw, shit…” He hears him say, and then Meenah is blasted back with crackling red energy. She flies back ten feet and slams into the wall, landing with a sickening crunch that would have him worried if he didn’t know she could handle it. Meenah groans and takes her trident back up, using it to brace herself and stand up.  
“You…” Meenah starts, murder in her eyes, but no one is supposed to die, not here, not yet, this is just the start.  
He isn’t sure what to do to keep things nonlethal, but the situation is resolved by itself. There’s a creak, and Kurloz looks over to see Damara has absconded without anothed word. He lets out a sigh of relief, and the room starts buzzing with people talking over each other about what happened.  
“Meenah are you okay?”  
“Oh my god that was so crazy-”  
“You know, she just caught me off guard, if i had seen her comin’ I’d have-”  
“Well that was certainly entertaining.”  
He feels like all their voices are drilling into his skull, but he can only look at Meenah. She needed to break Damara. Damara had to break the session. Then he would be done. Right? That was all. No big deal.  
Right?

Meulin grabs his hand.  
“We should purrobably go home or something…” She says. “That was purretty intense…”  
“Yeah…” Mituna adds.  
_“I have to”_ He pauses, _“I have to do something.”_ Kurloz signs, as he tracks Meenah, brushing off Aranea and Porrim in favor of storming off. _“Can I just meet up with you guys later?”_ Mituna gives him a look, but nods.  
“Yeah man. I’ll catch you around.” He says. Latula, who until this point had been trapped in a conversation with Kankri, perks up when she sees Tuna going to leave.  
“Hey! Mituna, wait up!” She springs up, following him out, and Kankri looks visibly disappointed by this.  
“Um, Purrloz…” His attention is drawn back to Meulin. Her ears are drawn back, and she looks nervous. “Do you think that maybe you could come over to my hive later? If you’re not busy, y’know?” He looks her over for a second, and nods.  
_“Yeah. I think I can make my motherfuckin way over there.”_ She beams, back to her normal happy self.  
“Awesome!! Okay!! I’ll see you later then!” She pulls him into another crushing hug, and then leaves, giving him a little wave. He’s left in the hive with Kankri, Porrim, Aranea, and Cronus. Rufioh and Horuss seems to have made their way out, and Aranea murmurs something to Porrim before leaving. He isn’t thrilled to find himself in this company.  
“Oh, Kurloz, you’re still here.” Kankri says, straightening up when he sees him again. He waves. “I see your translators have abandoned you.” He shrugs, smile playing on his lips.  
“You drove them off.” He signs. Kankri’s eyes linger on his hands movements, looking irritated.  
“You know very well that I don’t know Beforan Sign Language.” He says, crossing his arms.  
“Well how else do you expect him to communicate, Kanny?” Porrim asks, hand on her hip. Porrim is looking him over cooley, eyes lingering on the stitches on his lips. His eyes lock on hers, and she looks away. Cronus stands, stretching out a little. He looks even more pathetic than usual, probably from Meenah’s verbal assault.  
“Uh, listen guys, I gotta … I’m gonna go back to my hive.” He says, giving him a nervous look.  
“We should talk about what Meenah was saying, I think it might help work through any trauma that might have been caused.” Kankri is only getting started, and he doesn’t have time for this shit. He needs to make sure Meenah would follow through with what had to happen. He stands silently, moving through the grandiose hive to seek her out. He doubts they notice him taking his leave.

The hive is big and empty, and overwhelmingly pink. His eyes linger on all the piles of random treasure she has piled up everywhere. Well, everyone had their thing to make them feel less empty inside. As shallow as hers hers was. He moves upstairs, knowing she would have her respiteblock up high, and was probably where she retreated to fume about her wounds. He wondered if her ribs broke from that … how satisfying that would be.

He has to climb several sets of stairs until he reaches the top, and looks around. He was definitely at her block. The whole top floor seems to function as her respiteblock, a very open area. He scopes out the room, and spots her, just inside an attached ablution block. Her top is off, and she’s inspecting her ribs in the mirror. She doesn’t notice him, too wrapped up in her injuries. He leans against the banister, watching her. He wasn’t sure how he wanted to do this, but he just had to make sure Damara stayed her main target. He lets her put her shirt back on,  
apparently not too beat up, before turning his voodoos loose. The room gets cold, very quickly, and he feels out her mind. It’s not hard … her guard is down, and even if it wasn’t she didn’t exactly barricade against psychic attacks on the regular. He grabs her mind, putting it in a metaphorical stranglehold, and makes her turn around. He doesn’t know if it makes him a sick bastard or not to feel how afraid she is. In his own defense, she was a bitch.

 _ **< ALRIGHT FISH BITCH LET’S MAKE THIS QUICK.> **_She full body shudders as she goes under completely, and he feels a vicious smile cross his face.  
“I’m listening.” She murmurs, all the bravado gone from her voice.  
_**< YOU’RE GOING TO KEEP PUSHING DAMARA. EVEN IF IT FEELS LIKE SHE’S GOING TO KILL YOU. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT FEELS LIKE SHE’S GOING TO KILL YOU.>**_ She nods, her eyes wide behind her glasses. _**< MOTHERFUCKER UP TOP HAS PLANS FOR YOU. NOW LISTEN HERE. I’LL LET YOU PLAY BEING IN CHARGE. BUT YOU BEST NOT FORGET THAT I’M IN CONTROL.>>**_ He doesn’t feel like he’s in control. He feels like he’s trying to hang on to control with his claws, scrabbling to keep a grip on it. The pressure in his brain gets worse as he pauses. He squeezes his eyes shut, the pain making him dizzy, but gets a grip after a moment, and turns his attention back to Meenah. _**< WE’RE DONE HERE.>**_ He snaps his fingers, and she drops, like a puppet with its strings cut. He takes a moment to wonder if he should move her so she doesn’t aggravate her ribs, but his lip curls a little, and instead walks back downstairs. She didn’t really do anything to deserve his kindness, after all.  
Mituna would be so disappointed in him, but that’s why he wasn’t there. He reaches the foyer, which had fallen silent, all of the other trolls having gone back to their respective planets after that fiasco, apparently. He huffs out a sigh. He supposed he should go see Meulin now. He flips his hood up, and steps back outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading again! i spent so long getting the translations to code for damara that ive lost my mind. expect next chapter to reflect this. please let me know what you think, comments and criticisms more than welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meenah continues to meddle. Someone gets fucked up. Kurloz loses a little control. Progress would have been made, but then they got high. Welcome to ........... chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! this chapter .... i have no idea. i just wanted more violence :o/ it's good. as always, i have taken the time to code damara's text for hover over translations on desktop. you're all welcome. no need to prostrate yourself, it only takes me 6 hours to get it to code right. no big deal, all in a days work

Kurloz groans softly, waking to incessant dinging and the now familiar dull pressure being applied to his thinkpan. He blinks slowly, head feeling like it’s full of cotton, and climbs out of the ‘coon. As he gets out, his stupid horn catches on something, and he falls in the least graceful way possible. He opts to lay on the floor for a moment, contemplating why he even bothered.

He eventually drags himself up off his disgusting floor, bracing himself against the recupracoon as he stands. The dinging, which was coming from his husktop, seems to have ceased for now. Perfect. He stretches, and makes his way to the ablution block. His head pounded, and he growled softly as he rubbed his temples.The hive is dark and quiet, and he keeps the lights off to keep from aggravating his head more. As if that would help. Whatever. He climbs into the shower, turning the water up barely above warm. He stands in the shower, staring into space while he stood under the water, not doing anything except breathing for a moment, before shaking himself out of his reverie, and cleaning up. It’s harder to see with all the lights off, but it’s probably better this way. He didn’t have to actually see himself. His own self hatred wasn’t new, but it was getting worse. He’d have to talk to Mituna about that … if he wasn’t busy with his shiny new red quad. He tries to keep himself from being bitter over that. He just never really liked Latula. He was happy for him though, the two of them had basically been an item for a sweep now. All it was was a matter of making it official. Just because he couldn’t maintain a matesprit didn’t mean he had to be bitter about his diamond’s. He wasn’t bitter. He wasn’t.

These sort of moments made him wish he could manipulate his own shitty emotions.

As he steps out of the shower, his eyes linger on the sink and floor of the block, and the rather large purple stains that never quite came out. He tears his eyes away, and heads back to his respiteblock, avoiding the mirror. He felt listless, and he didn’t know if that was his depression or a very real effect of his situation. It was probably both at the same time. Bastards were spit roasting him. He rumbles out another soft growl, involuntarily, as another wave of pressure bears down on his pan. He does his level best to ignore it, and grabs clothing out of his closet. Nothing nice. Not like he had to put on a front for anyone but himself and the Messiahs, and the Lords knew that he was a fucking mess right now. That probably didn’t do well for them, as they needed him to be their … tool and all but it wasn’t like anything had happened in a while. Maybe that meant something would come soon.  
He still doesn’t bother to dress like a real troll.

He wakes his husktop up after putting a hoodie and shorts on, curious to see who exactly was bothering him, and he’s surprised to see Cronus’s handle. He tries to remember a reason why, exactly, he might be trolling him, but comes up empty handed. Against his better judgement, he opens the conversation.

casanovaAquatic has begun trolling taciturnCharientism

CA: hey  
CA: wvhat the fuck man  
CA: meenah just told me youvwe been talkin some shit  
CA: and thats not cool  
CA: fuckin respond freakshowv i see you online  
CA: you gonna pussy out n not say shit  
TC: I have no idea what you’re talking about  
CA: uh yeah sure  
CA: meenah said that latula told her that mituna told her youd been sayin some wvickin fuckin shit  
TC: Like.  
CA: oh  
CA: she didnt specify  
CA: but i wvouldn’t put it past ya  
TC: I don’t care enough about you to complain about you to Mituna.  
TC: :o)  
CA: oh fuck you  
TC: You fucking wish.  
CA: HELL no  
CA: listen man i already knowv youre talkin shit like wvhy wvould latula lie  
TC: Has it crossed your mind that Meenah was lying.  
CA: wvhy wvould meenah lie  
TC: Are you for real.  
CA: meenah and i are gettin PRETTY close you knowv  
CA: only a matter a time before wve make it o-fish-ial  
TC: I thought Meenah threatened to “krill” you if you used fish puns.  
CA: she don’t knowv  
TC: Look you can believe what you want. I guess. I really couldn’t care less what you think of me.  
CA: like that youre a backwvards ass clowvn wvho’s stuck on his stupid religion too much to fuckin do anythin for anyone else  
TC: I’m not in the mood to fight over this. Can you go find Kankri and cry about it to him.  
CA: i just might come ovwer there and kick your bony ass. i am a rather accomplished wvizard no matter wvhat you grubby landdwvellers might think.  
TC: I wouldn’t.  
CA: wvhat? scared?  
CA: hello?  
CA: youre not gonna respond to me nowv?  
taciturnCharientism has ceased trolling casanovaAquatic

He sighs, rubbing his temples. It seems that Meenah is going to cause a stir for him. Maybe he should have warded her off of that, but it was his own stupid fault for not thinking to do it. At least this meant she was still antagonizing people, and hopefully directing most of her ire at Damara. He sighed, and tapped his fingers against his desktop, staring at the ended conversation. Cronus was a little bitch, so hopefully he didn’t have the spine to come over and bother him over this.

He’d hate to have to exert the effort to crush his little wizard dreams.

He looks at the rainbow of trolls online, eyes lingering on Damara’s handle. He should … probably check on her. He wasn’t going to lie, he desperately wanted to be there when Meenah got fucking destroyed. He finally clicks on her after a second of contemplation.

taciturnCharientism  has began trolling  abradantArientine

AA: ?   
TC: Hey Damara. Seems Meenah’s continuing her reign of terror.  
AA: YES.  
AA: SHE FUCK WITH YOU?  
TC: Setting Cronus on me, apparently.  
AA: それは面白いでしょう  
TC: You know I can’t understand that over Trollian.  
AA: NO HAVE TO. MAYBE I DO IT FOR ME. NOT EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU CLOWN.  
TC: True.  
AA: THAT WHAT I THOUGHT.  
AA: MEENAH GETTING BAD. OVERSTEPPING BOUNDARY.  
TC: What are you gonna do about it then.  
AA: NOTHING NOW. TRY TO AVOID. NOT WANT DOOM TIMELINE.  
TC: What if a dead Meenah makes a stable timeline.  
AA: それは私にとっては運が良すぎるでしょう  
AA: I NO THINK SO.  
TC: Well, you don’t know until you try. :o)  
AA: TRUE.  
AA: I NOT THERE YET.  
TC: I get it. How’s shit with the bronze bastard.  
AA: OH. I ABOUT TO DESTROY LITTLE SHIT BLOOD.   
TC: How entertaining.  
AA: YEAH HAHA SO FUNNY.  
AA: YOU BAD CLOWN.  
TC: I never claimed to be funny.  
AA: FUNNY IN HEAD.  
TC: Thank you.  
AA: FUCK YOU.  
AA: 彼は昨日私の土地に着きました  
AA: PONY MAN SWEATING EVERYWHERE.  
AA: HANG OFF RUFIOH.  
AA: RUFIOH SAY “すみません、彼は友達になりたいです。”  
TC: Didn’t catch that.  
AA: OH FUCKING WELL.  
TC: Okay.  
AA: ANYWAY. AFTER THAT. RUFIOH MAKE PONY BOY LEAVE.  
AA: SAY LIKE. WE MAY BE BUCKET FRIENDS. HAVE FUN.  
TC: Friends with benefits.  
AA: I NOT CARE WHAT IS IN WEST BEFORAN.  
TC: I know.  
AA: STOP INTERRUPTING. STUPID CLOWN. YOU ASK WHY THEN NO LISTEN.  
TC: I’m done.  
AA: I SAY NO. I NO CHEAT LIKE HIM. SHITBLOOD UPSET. SAY I NO DO WHAT HE WANT IN RED QUAD. SO HE HAVE TO 欲求不満から抜け出すためにホルスとセックスをする.  
AA: I TELL HIM. GO HAVE SEX WITH SWEAT MAN THEN. SINCE HE SO MUCH BETTER ANYWAY. HE DEAD TO ME.  
AA: NOW AM DONE.  
TC: Well from what I understood I’d say he probably deserved to get the shit kicked out of him.  
AA: YES. HE DO WHAT HE WANT. NO PUNISHMENT.  
TC: But you’re not going to start it.  
AA: 私は戦いを始めない BUT WILL FINISH FIGHT.  
TC: Let me know if you need someone to sit on the sideline and watch detachedly.  
AA: 私はあなたにいつ大きなペニスを持っていってあなた自身のお尻を突き上げるかをあなたに知らせる  
TC: Somehow I get the feeling that wasn’t a “Sure thing, Kurloz.”  
AA: YOU CORRECT.  
AA: I GO NOW. MEENAH UNBLOCK SELF AGAIN. HAVE TO TELL HER 私はあなたとセックスするつもりです。トライデントの鋭い終わりに

abradentArientine has ceased trolling taciturnCharientism

Kurloz sighs and sits back. This was kind of his fault, he knew. Sure Meenah would do this either way, but he did make it worse. He drags himself up, and moves down into the nutrition block. He was gonna starve if he didn’t force himself to eat. Force was incredibly appropriate, as there was really no reason to look forward to it, at all. He grabs the container of disgusting meal replacement powder Mituna had managed to alchemize for him, and dumps a serving in a cup, and follows it up with milk. It’s supposed to taste like honey, as it advertises on it, but it actually tastes like malt powder and death. He still mixes it into a thick liquid, and grabs a straw. Regrettable, really, that he had to do this. Fucking disgusting. He gets over himself and drinks half of it quickly, trying not to taste it too much. It wasn’t hard, considering the majority of his taste buds had been removed, but he could a little, and the texture left much to be desired.

He starts to get a glass of water when he feels a whisper of presence. He frowns, filling the glass and looking out the window. He grabs a second straw, and drinks it absently as he stares out the window.. When he sees no one, he reaches out to see who it is. He closes his eyes as they start to flash lavender, feeling out. He grabs onto something, a distance away. Not an imp, which was more than fine. But he can tell it’s another troll. A violet troll.  
Cronus.

He sets the glass down, taste sufficiently rinsed from his mouth, and goes to his hive’s door. He opens it and leans against the door, waiting for him. It takes him a while to round the corner where the transportalizer was to the front of his hive, which he could assume was because he was trying to be sneaky. It’s amusing to see him realize Kurloz was already waiting for him. Cronus straightens up then, puffing himself up to look bigger. He certainly wasn’t taller than Kurloz, but he was a little sturdier looking, but it’s hard to be intimidated by a guppy that’s desperate for approval. That was, in the end, why he’d come … he thought it would impress Meenah.  
“Wvowv you look like you just crawvled out of the coon.” Cronus’s lip curled, as he spoke, disdain dripping from his voice. Kurloz just raised an eyebrow. Not like he could actually respond in a way that mattered. “Wvhat I’m not wvorth it to get dressed for?” Kurloz shrugs, and then points at him, points down, draws a question mark. Why are you here? Seems like even he would get it. Cronus pauses, interpreting this for a longer amount of time than he’d hoped, and then growls. “Just wvanted to make sure wve wvere on the same page. Keep my name out your mouth.” Kurloz taps his stitches, smile playing on his lips, and that makes Cronus growl more. “Wvhatevwer, you knowv wvhat I mean, you fucking freak!” He snaps. Kurloz just points at him, and then holds a fist to his mouth, moving back and forth. A pretty clear ‘blow me’. Cronus doesn’t like this, it seems. You’d think he’d take whatever he could get at this point. “Don’t you knowv wvho I am? Unlike your bullshit, MY destiny is REAL! Howv do you think I got these scars? I’M a good guy, wvorking to savwe your ass!” Cronus is really working himself up into a frenzy, breathing hard and purple in the face. Kurloz rolls his eyes, and waves goodbye. He was busy being a loser by himself in his hive. His schedule was packed, and he couldn’t pencil in ‘petty bitch fight with fellow loser’ today. He turns and opens his door. “Wve’re not done here!” Cronus yells, and Kurloz turns back to him, tilting his head a little. He points at him again, then himself, then mimes punching. Another question mark. What are you gonna do? Hit me? This was a little abstract for Cronus, it seems. He puzzles for a moment, but Kurloz is not and has never been a patient troll. He heads for the door again, or was going to until he hears the scrape of Cronus’s ugly boots against the ground. He dodges just as a rock goes sailing past. He turns back around. “I SAID wve wveren’t DONE!” Kurloz narrows his eyes and tilts his head slightly, eyes locking on the others.  
Fine.  
If Cronus wanted to make this physical, he was perfectly down for that. He decaptchas his club, the nails studded in it still coated with the blood of the last unfortunate imp on the other end of it. It’s a deadly, heavy weapon that he holds casually, inspecting it for imaginary flaws. He grins, and Cronus starts to look nervous. He should be. Ever seeking fish bitch’s approval, he decides not to back down. He takes out his weapon, a shitty sniper rifle he alchemized an age ago. “I don’t wvant to kill you here so you better stop it wvith the club shit!” He snaps, his w’s waving even more. Kurloz grins wider. He points the club at Cronus, and then towards the transportalizer. If you don’t want a fight, then leave. Nevertheless, Cronus steadies his gun. Idiot. Kurloz shrugs, looking between his club and Cronus, eyeing up the distance between them. Cronus seems to be out of his element, poor little seadweller. Couldn’t even figure out he was about to be used as target practice Must be hard having all of the power. Without any further dramatics, he whips the club at the other, aiming for the chest. Cronus moves faster than he thought he might, and he misses his target. Instead of lodging in his sternum, it sinks into Cronus’s shoulder with a very satisfying thunk. Cronus jerks back in surprise, arm dropping from the shock, free hand desperately trying to hold his gun one handed. Cronus shudders in pain, violet blood oozing out slowly, unfortunately not gushing like he’d prefer. “Nowv wvhat, dumb shit? You just threwv your only wveapon!” He grits out, grinning sharply, raising the gun up to level it at him. It’s not hard to dodge the blast. He was barely aiming, not even able to steady it. The recoil makes his arm fly back, and he, again, desperately hangs on to it. Kurloz’s lip curls as he tries to bare his teeth out of instinct. The pressure in his head was so intense right now, it was so hard to think. He just wanted to fucking rip into him, maybe he’d find some solace deep in the other’s entrails. 

Kurloz steps off the porch, carefully approaching the other. Cronus seems to weigh his odds, and backs up, dropping the gun in favor of ripping the club out of his arm. It’s in there good, and Kurloz watches the pain on his face with a sick sort of fascination. He hated this part of himself. Fights brought out the worst in him. He’s pulled from his reverie as Cronus tries to bring his club down on him. It glances off his shoulder and he grits his teeth. Stupid. Idiot, letting his thoughts take over. Letting his headache distract him. A low growl starts deep in his throat, and he lashes out, raking his hand through the wound in his shoulder and sinking his claws in. Cronus goes all glassy eyed in pain, shuddering a little, and Kurloz feels only a little bad as he knocks his legs from under him, taking him down. He hits the ground hard, and Kurloz grins down, looking the violetblood over briefly. The troll in question groans softly as he tries to recover his breath, gasping like a fish out of water. How appropriate. Kurloz sneers a little, and then brings his boot down on Cronus’s face. His nose crunches beautifully, and the blood is getting him all fucked up. He wants to take it and paint with it. Make him bleed and bleed until no more comes out, and cover a room in it. He resists. The violetblood gasps in pain, but Kurloz just regards him coolly, grinding his foot down on his face. This wasn’t even a fight, it seemed. He puts his boot over Cronus’s windpipe, threatening to step down. As his heel moves a little, he realizes he’s smearing the violet on the bottom of his shoe onto his skin, and his claws twitch. Instead of goring the bastard, his eyes light up purple as he breaks into his head. It’s like a cavern in there, and he smirks.

 _ **< MOTHERFUCKER BETTER NOT GET UP.>**_ Cronus looks very dazed, but manages to choke out a witty one liner.  
“F … fuck you.” He spits up at Kurloz. He grins wider, applies a little more pressure to both his windpipe and his mind. Cronus goes under, to his immense satisfaction.  
_**< THERE’S A GOOD IDIOT. YOU’RE NOT GONNA BOTHER ME ANYMORE. GOT IT? YOU’RE DONE.>**_ Cronus nods. Little puppet with his strings pulled taut, ready to jump when he said jump. It was a thrill. _**< NO MORE OF THIS DESTINY SHIT. I’M FUCKIN’ TIRED OF IT. I’M SURE EVERYONE WILL BE HAPPY TO STOP HEARING ABOUT IT, MORE HAPPY THAN WHEN I GOT SEWN UP. SILENCE IS GOLDEN. WOULDN’T YOU AGREE, MOTHERFUCKER?>**_ His puppet shudders in his grasp, and nods again. _**< NOW WE’RE GONNA KEEP THIS CONVERSATION ON THE DOWN-LOW, UNDERSTAND? NOBODY IS GOING TO KNOW YOU EVER CAME HERE. GO TO YOUR LAND, AND PASS OUT.>**_ He removes his boot from his neck, and Cronus drags himself up, eyes flashing brilliantly. He moves all pathetic and loose, a useless puppet, and yet the puppeteer takes the strings and drags him onward, toward the transportalizer. Kurloz watches him, satisfied that the situation was dealt with. A minute after he Cronus teleports away, he feels the connection drop, and his eyes slowly go back to yellow and deep purple.

Certainly a welcome break. Entertaining, for a moment. He grabs his club off the ground and inspects it. There’s a satisfying violet stain on it, and throws it back into his modus. He probably didn’t even need to hurt him. Could have dropped him the second he threw that rock, but that would have been just boring. And Kurloz had been … just so bored. Mituna would be upset he let himself get carried away, wouldn’t he? But he wasn’t here right now. Kurloz scrapes his foot along the ground, trying to get the violet off his foot, to avoid any more feelings about that. It works, mostly. He turns and walks inside. He wasn’t down with being conscious right this second.

Waking up for the second time that night was similar to the first time, with the added bonus of feeling like he was moving through jello. The midday nap did nothing to make him feel better.. The dinging noise is going off again, and he rolls out of his pile, huffing softly at the injustice of being awake. He pulls himself up, going over to the stupid husktop to check it. Why? Why were people contacting him? Did Meenah try to get someone else on him after Cronus inevitably came up blank on what he went through, and just told her he was too much of a bitch to do anything? He softens a little when he sees the messages are not entirely unwelcome, from Meulin and Mituna.

amourCreator has begun trolling taciturnCharientism

AC: (^・o・^)ノ< PURRLOZ!!!!!!!!!  
AC: (^•o•^)< DID YOU HEAR?????????  
AC: (^•o•^)< CRONUS IS ALL MESSED UP!!!!!!!!!  
AC: (^•o•^)< HE SAID SOMETHING BAD HAPPENED BUT HE CAN’T REMEMFUR IT.  
AC: (^._.^)< MEENAH’S SAYING WE ALL HAVE TO KEEP AN EYE OUT BECLAWS THE IMPS MUST BE GETTING STRONGFUR!!!!!!!!!  
AC: (=T I T=)< ISN’T THAT SCARY THOUGH????????? I’M KIND OF NERVOUS TO STAY ALONE NOW.  
AC: (=^. .^=)< WOULD IT BE OKAY IF I CAME OFUR? YOU HAVEN’T B33N VERY SOCIAL LATELY.  
AC: (=`ω´=)< I ASKED MITUNA-FISH HOW YOU WERE DOING AND HE SAID YOU WERE DEPRESSED AGAIN AND NOT TO TELL ANYONE.  
AC: (=^•^=)< I DIDN’T, DON’T WORRY!!!!!!!!!  
AC: (=^-ω-^=)< BUT I WANT TO HELP YOU F33L BETTER!!!!!!!!!  
AC: (^•o•^)< IN A FURIEND WAY, NOT A PALE WAY!  
AC: (^-Λ-^)< YOU AND MITUNA-FISH ARE PURRFECT TOGETHER!!!!!!!!!  
TC: Hey Kitty, sorry I all up and passed out earlier.  
AC: (^•o•^)< THAT’S OKAY!!!!!!!!!  
AC: (= ; I ; =)< BUT IT’S GOOD YOU CAME BACK THEN  
AC: (=T I T=)< I WAS RAMBLING A BIT…  
TC: I noticed.  
TC: A couple of those cat puns were a pawful reach, too.  
AC: └(=^‥^=) ┐< !!!!!!!!!! OMGOMGOMGOMGMOGOMGMOGOMGOMG YOU CAT PUNNED!!!!!!!!!  
TC: Just for you Kitty.  
AC: (=^ω^=)< SQUEE!!!  
AC: (=^‥^=)< CAN I COME OFUR THOUGH???  
TC: Yeah you better … especially if the imps are getting stronger.  
TC: I know you can hold your own but I’d feel better knowing you were safe.  
AC: (=^-ω-^=)< AWW PURRLOZ YOU’RE SO SWEET!!!!!!!!!  
AC: (=^ω^=)< I’LL BE RIGHT THERE!!!!!!!!!  
AC: (=^ω^=)< I GOTTA SHOWER REAL QUICK OKAY?  
TC: Sure thing Kitty. See you soon :o)

amourCreator has ceased trolling taciturnCharientism

Kurloz kind of eyes his own clothes. Hoodie and a pair of shorts didn’t impress anyone, but Meulin never really needed to be impressed. He thinks about changing, but doesn’t. It’s relieving to hear that they just thought a particularly vicious imp got Cronus, instead of him. If any of them were fucking smart they’d piece it together. But they weren’t, so they didn’t. He’s even a little disappointed Aranea didn’t catch the lie and tell Meenah. Just made it easier for him, he supposed.

He thinks about the thrill of the very brief fight, remembering the way his nose broke so easy, and he has to make himself stop. Why was he getting like this again? He closed his eyes. It just fucking … pissed him off how people could get away with fucking him over. But he was fine now. He wasn’t angry. The situation was dealt with, and nobody knew what actually happened.

He clicks on Mituna’s chat and scans it over. As he reads it, his bloodpusher drops a little. Well, shit.

technophileAgonized has begun trolling taciturnCharientism

TA: KURL0Z 1 N33D Y0U 70 73LL M3 WH475 G01NG 0N.  
TA: 1M G0NN4 45K Y0U 70 83 H0N357  
TA: D1D Y0U D0 7H47 70 CR0NU5.  
TA: D0N7 L13 0K4Y? W3…   
TA: W3 D0N7 H4V3 70 73LL 4NY0N3 17 W45 Y0U.  
TA: 1 JU57 N33D 70 8R1NG Y0U 7H3 FUCK 84CK.  
TA: D0N7 4V10D M3 455H0L3.  
TC: I was sleeping.  
TA: 4NY7H1NG 3L53 Y0U D0 70D4Y?  
TC: Cronus might have stopped by.  
TC: How’d you find out.  
TA: 4R3 Y0U F0R R34L????  
TA: N07 0NLY D1D H3 54Y H3 W45 G0NN4 G0 533 Y0U, 4ND 7H47 H3 1MM3D1473LY 8L4CK3D 0U7 4F73R L34V1NG H15 H1V3  
TA: 8U7 3V3RY0N3 533M5 70 H4V3 F0RG0773N 7H47 1MP5 D0N7 L34V3 M4RK5 1D3N71C4L 70 7H47 0F 4 N41L 57UDD3D JUGGL1NG CLU8.  
TA: 175 84D WH3N 1M 7H3 5M4R7 0N3.  
TC: You're always smarter than them.  
TA: N0 1M N07 L3771NG G0 0F 7H15 50 570P 831NG 4LL FUCK1NG L1GH7PU5H3R3D  
TC: He came over to fight.  
TC: So I motherfuckin fought him.  
TA: KURL0Z H15 4RM5 FUCK3D  
TA: Y0U D1DN7 H4V3 70 D0 7H47, 1 KN0W Y0U C0ULD H4V3 DR0PP3D H1M 7H3 53C0ND H3 3N73R3D Y0UR L4ND.  
TC: Well. MAYBE I fucking WANTED TO.

Kurloz finds himself clenching his fists so hard his knuckles are white. His claws dig into the palms of his hands, piercing the skin and causing purple rivers to make their way down his arms, staining the cuffs of the hoodie.

TA: WH04.  
TA: KZ L00K  
TA: 1M N07 G0NN4 73LL 4NY0N3 WH47 R34LLY H4PP3N3D  
TA: 7H3 5L34ZY 84574RD W1LL H34L 8U7 1F M33N4H D3C1D35 Y0UR3 4 L1481L17Y W3LL D13.  
TA: 50 1 N33D Y0U 70 CH1LL.  
TC: I’m just.  
TC: I’m sorry Bumblebee.  
TA: Y0UR3 8R1NG1NG 8UM8L3833 84CK HUH  
TA: 7H475 N07 G0NN4 M4K3 M3 L355 M4D 480U7 7H15  
TC: I know.  
TA: L00K, W3 N33D 70 J4M 0V3R 7H15  
TC: Kittybitch is comin over.  
TA: 15 7H47 4 G00D 1D34?  
TC: I don’t know. I just miss her. I’d never hurt her on purpose.  
TA: K3Y W0RD5: 0N PURP053  
TA: 4R3 Y0U C4LM N0W?  
TC: Yes.  
TA: 1M C0M1NG 0V3R 700. MN W0N7 M1ND.  
TC: …  
TC: Okay.  
TC: Are you pissed.  
TA: Y35.  
TC: Okay.  
TC: That’s fair.  
TA: 1D 54Y. 1M 0N MY W4Y N0W.

technophileAgonized has ceased trolling taciturnCharientism

Kurloz groans softly, going over to his pile and laying back down. Fuck. FUCK. He was so stupid tofuck him up like that. Cronus wasn’t the worst target … but still. He felt like he was losing his mind as of late … losing his control. He stares at the surface of his desk, lost in his own thoughts. Maybe he was never in control at all. Any modicum of restraint was granted to him by his Gods and now they have not allowed him that mercy. What if he got worse? What if he gave in, and really really hurt someone? Someone he cared about?

What if that’s what they wanted?

He’s so glad to hear someone banging on his door. He stands, and goes to answer. The door is barely open when he suddenly has an arm full of kitty troll, purring loudly and lifting him up a little.  
“PURRLOZ!!!!!!!!! HIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!” He hugs her back when she sets him down again, burying his face in her hair. She giggles, pressing her face into his chest. “Thanks for letting me come over!!!” She says loudly, and he nods, knowing she can feel the movement at least. After a moment she wiggles away so she can talk to him. “You look all sleepy, Purrloz! You’re so cute!” He smiles little, and she beams. “So what’s the plan for tonight???”  
_“Mituna invited himself over, we need to jam about something and then we can all chill.”_ She squeaks a little.  
“I’m not inpurrupting am I???” He shakes his head. “Oh, good then! I’ll just make myself busy. Maybe I can even clean this place up!!!” She looks around. “I think if we got your hive looking nice you wouldn’t be so gloomy!!! Maybe we can even get some flowers in here!”  
_“Maybe so, Kitty.”_ She giggles. There’s a knock on the open door frame, and Mituna steps in. Kurloz’s eyes go right to him, and the two look at each other for a moment. Meulin breaks the silence.  
“Hi Mituna-fish!!!!!!!!!” She bounces over and hugs him too, and he gives her a half hug.  
“Hey MN. What’s goin’ on?”  
“Oh, just hanging around!!! I know you guys are gonna go “hang out” real quick so I’ll leave you to it!!!!!!!!!” She giggles and winks at Kurloz, and bounces over to the couch, curling up with her phone. Mituna shuts the door quietly, leveling Kurloz with a look.  
“Kurloz, let’s go upstairs.” He nods a little, feeling kind of small. Mituna herds him upstairs, and he feels himself go weightless after the door shuts, setting him in the pile. He curls up a little after Mituna lets him go, the yellowblood studying him intently. “Why?”  
_“I just did.”_  
“For no reason?” He says, a clicking noise starting in the back of his throat. Gods he was annoyed with him…  
_“I tried to walk back in my hive, when he was threatening me, and he threw a rock at me. I told him to leave, not to fight me, but he took his rifle out.”_ Kurloz signs, not looking at Mituna. _“So I threw my club at him.”_ Finally he chances a look at him. He’s not as pissed as he could be.  
“So he insisted on a fight after you tried to leave, and refused when you told him to go?” He nods. “And you swear to me that’s the truth?” He nods again. Mituna relaxes. “That’s not as bad as I thought it would be.” He murmurs, and gets in the pile with him, taking his hands and pulling him in. He buries his face in Mituna’s shoulder. He feels himself starting to cry, and his shoulders shake a little as he sobs silently. Mituna purrs for him, petting his hair a little. “Shh, shh, I’m not mad. You didn’t start it. That’s what I cared about, paleheart. That’s all.” Kurloz just holds him tighter. “Got you all shaky huh?” Kurloz wiggles away a little so he can sign.  
_“I liked it. I liked hurting him though.”_ Mituna nods.  
“I know. I know, but we’re gonna make sure this doesn’t happen anymore. I … I can tell Meenah maybe to stop siccing the others on you.”  
_“It’ll only make her want to more.”_  
“Then I’ll just have to take care of it!” He says. Kurloz frowns a little. “Just tell me if something happens, okay? I’ll always be there if you need me, because I know you’d be there for me whenever I need you. I really don't want you to take a fight too far.” Kurloz nods, studying his face. Mituna smiles. He loves Mituna’s smile, all lopsided with his gnarly double fangs poking out a little. He smiles back, and presses a stitched kiss to his cheek. Mituna purrs. “Okay … how about we go get fucked up, and watch a terrible movie with Meulin?”  
_“Sounds amazing.”_

It doesn’t take long to find himself in between Mituna and Meulin, relaxed and purring at the both of them. Kurloz’s head rests in Mituna’s lap, and his legs drape over Meulin’s lap. Her fingers trace patterns on his legs, hearts and diamonds, her symbol and his. Mituna works knots out of his hair gently, stopping when Kurloz’s purring stutters if he pulls too hard. Meulin’s been hogging the pipe, but Kurloz is done, so he finds it hard to care too much. Mituna seems a little irritated but when he holds a hand out she hands it over. He takes a hit, holding it in for a long time, and then blows the smoke into Kurloz’s face. He hums behind his stitches, breathing it in. Meulin giggles.  
“You guys are sooooooooo cute!” She purrs, taking the pipe back from Mituna when he reluctantly hands it over.  
“Aw shut up ML.” Mituna groans, and Kurloz laughs quietly. “You too KZ. You’re so annoying, God.” Kurloz signs an ‘S’ to him, and he rolls his pretty red and blue eyes. “Godssss. Happy?” He nods. “You know I don’t really believe in that right?” He nods again.  
_“I know. But I gotta keep preaching. We’ll get there someday.”_ He snorts, and shakes his head.  
“Alright, sure. I’ll listen to your sermons and we’ll see.” He eyes him over. “Are you gonna pass out like a bitch all sprawled over us?” He nods again, making Mituna grin. “Well I’m gonna keep smoking. Meulin, can you pass the fucking pipe?” Meulin giggles and hands it back over.  
“Sorry!”  
“Yeah, yeah. You’re repacking this you fuckin’ fiend.” She pouts. “Kurloz can’t do it for you every time.”  
“He’d do it if I asked!”  
_“Well yeah.”_ He signs, and Mituna starts laughing.  
“You’re totally her bitch dude. You do everything for her.”  
_“So?”_ He asks, closing his eyes. Mituna starts playing with his hair again.  
“Just fucking pass out already dude. You know you want to.” Kurloz cracks an eye open and flips him off. Mituna tugs on his hair a little in reprimand, making him hiss in the back of his throat, but he closes his eyes again, and snuggles up to him, happy to sleep with the two of them so close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! again, im losing it slowly so if this wasn't understandable, no one is reading this anyway so i have no shame.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mitunas got that gamer gf. damara snaps a little. kankri tries to be convincing, and isn't.

Mituna’s hive is comfy to fall asleep in, and to wake up in. He nuzzles into the warm body next to him, confused why he was already awake. He was exhausted, he didn’t want to be awake. He drowsily snuggles back up, eyes closing once again. His diamond is like honey and warm blankets, and he buries his face in his chest. He’s wearing Kurloz’s shirt, and it makes his pusher ache with how sweet it is. He plays with the hem of the shirt, feeling the small frays, and closes his eyes, dipping back into sleep. He is then jolted awake once again when someone starts pounding on the door. He growls softly, pulling away from Mituna, whose face is scrunched up in irritation.  
“KZ, get the door?” He murmurs, rolling back over in the pile and promptly falling back to sleep. Kurloz can’t be irritated at him, though. He gets up, stretching a little, and puts a shirt on before going to see who it is. The stairs creak softly under his weight, and the drone of the honey bees provide a soft cushion to the silence of the twilight hours. He hums softly as he approaches the door. He could feel her out there, the teal blood’s mind seeps out restless energy and confidence, alive with thoughts and ideas. So much energy, a never ending fountain of it. So he’s not surprised to open the door and look down on Latula. Latula, however, is surprised. Her eyes widen, and he feels her surprise and discomfort for a moment before she seems to wrestle it down, and an easygoing smile spreads across her face  
“Oh, shit! Kurloz, Kurley-fries, Lozzie! How’s it hangin’ man?” He gives her a smile and a hang ten sign, and she laughs. It’s more of a cackle really. She invites herself in, setting her skateboard against the wall as she does so. “Where’s Tuna? Sleeping?” He nods. “Aw shit, lame!” He shrugs. “Bet I woke both of you up huh?” Another nod. “Well … sorry about that!” She laughs again, indicating she is not, in fact, sorry about that. “The night IS a-wasting though!” He raises an eyebrow, points to the clock on the wall. It’s barely dusk. “Aw c’mon lazy bones, don’t be a drag. Hey, you do somethin’ different? You look mad different man.” He taps the stitches, raising his eyebrow. “Uh, no, not that! Oh wait, you’re not wearing your paint! Aw man, now I can see what Tuna sees in you!” She cackles again, slapping his upper arm, hard. He just levels a cool look at her until she stops laughing. She looks a little uncomfortable now. “Oh, well. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, just clownin’ on ya!” He smiles a little, realizing he was maybe getting a little too serious, and she smiles back. “So … Me and Mituna were gonna like, game, so are you … hangin around or?” Kurloz really did not want to be privy to their red date, and he shakes his head. A look of relief passes over her face quickly before she just smiles again. “Rad, alright, sorry to mess up you guy’s pale vibe and all, it’s just … we planned this, I didn’t think you’d be spending the night.” He waves it away, just as Mituna walks downstairs, yawning. He hasn’t deemed it necessary to change quite yet, still just in his shirt and boxers. He watches Latula’s face go teal briefly before she recovers.  
“Oh shit, hey Tulip!” Mituna says, grinning wide.  
“Hey dude. You forgot something!” She laughs, and he just shrugs.  
“You’re the one who decided to be here at the asscrack of twilight.” He says. “Besides it’s nothin anybody here ain’t seen before.” Kurloz smirks.  
_”I’m gonna get dressed and head out.”_ He signs. He was getting better at the signing. Not great, but better. Mituna tilts his head.  
“You don’t wanna hang around?”  
_“I don’t wanna third wheel on your red date and all. I should be getting back.”_  
“You don’t even have anywhere to be, just stay and chill.” He argues.  
“Um, Tuna babe, listen if he wants to go I mean, no biggie. It’d be way more fun with just us two.” She winks at him, and Mituna blushes yellow.  
“Oh, uh.” He glances back at Kurloz, but he just waves him away, and starts to head back upstairs. He finds an outfit he’d left there ages ago, and heads out without saying goodbye. He can hear them talking and laughing, and he didn’t want to ruin their time. As he steps out of the hive, he realizes he really doesn’t have anywhere to be, or anyone to hang out with. He stares at the ground for a moment, and then turns sharply and goes to the transportalizer. He’ll get ready for the day. And then he’ll figure it out. Or he’ll go back to sleep. It didn’t really matter.

He feels a lot more like himself after actually getting showered and dressed. He even deigns to put his paint on. As he finishes he gives himself a small smile. He kind of hates looking at himself, so he looks away, and steps into the hall. He’s starving, but he really … really does not want to choke down another shake. If it can be called that at all. His stomach growls angrily, and he winces, and opts for heading to his respiteblock. When in doubt, just go get fucked up. By himself. Alone. How fun. He kicks his door shut behind him, letting it slam. He likes the noise, likes to fill the space. He used to talk to himself to offset the intense stillness of his hive, but now it wasn’t an option.

He grabs his pipe off the desk, and just happens to glance at his husktop as he does so. A blinking red icon shows he’s missed a notification on trollian. He frowns a little, seeing it’s from Damara, and opens it.

abradantArientine [AA] has begun trolling  taciturnCharientism [TC]

AA: HEY. CLOWN.

Nothing further. He frowns, feeling a little nervous. The pressure in his brain is back again, and it crashes in like a wave. He winces, and types a reply.

TC: What’s motherfuckin happenin sister?

The response takes a moment.

AA: YOU CAN COME HELP WITH EMERGENCY?  
TC: You know I can.  
AA: YOU COME OVER NOW.

abradantArientine [AA]  has ceased trolling taciturnCharientism [TC]

Kurloz stared at the screen for a moment, and then puts his pipe and stash into his pocket. He guessed he was going to Damara’s planet, then.

A few hops of the transportalizer and he was at Damara’s planet. The massive tree, and the equally massive tree house, stand in front of him. Damara doesn’t seem to be outside. He sighs a little, and gets to climbing.

Once he makes it up into the treehouse, he pulls himself into the little entry room, and sits for a moment before dragging himself up. He bangs on a wall, trying to let Damara know he’s here.  
“Kurloz?” Comes her voice from another room. He follows it. She’s standing in her living area, smoking, and looking at something on the floor in distaste. He can’t quite see it from this angle, though. She looks to him. “You take long time, you know.” He shrugs a little, stepping over to her, and what she’d been staring at comes into view.

It was Rufioh.

Kurloz frowns a bit, and takes the joint of of Damara’s hand, taking a hit. Gods today was gonna be a weird one.  
Rufioh’s blood is seeping into the carpet, and his legs are bent in a way that was … worrying. His wings were all fucked up and he looked dead. Straight up dead. Kurloz hands Damara her joint back, and then points to Rufioh, and draws a finger across his neck, and then a question mark. Was he dead?  
“No. No dead.” She says, taking another hit. “Too bad.” He nods a little, and then gives her a sideway glance. She rolls her eyes. “You want know what happen?” He nods. “Rufioh push me again with bucket friends and. You know. I just … done.” She sounds sad. Tired and angry. “I … snap. Things maybe little blurry after that. Anyway. I drop him from tree. He fucked.” He nods again. He’s definitely fucked. Kurloz’s eyes glow a soft purple as he moves into Rufioh’s mind. He’s obviously passed out from shock, which was probably a small mercy for him. He sees Damara shiver a little in his peripheral, probably edgy about his voodoos. Understandable. 

He kneels next to the broken troll, inspecting. He places a hand on his leg, trying to get a sense of how that felt, and his eyes narrow a bit. He plays with the unconscious troll’s nervous system a little, sending sparks down them. What should have caused him to twitch and jerk did nothing. The most he could manage is to make his facial muscles move.  
“What verdict, then? He live?” Kurloz tilts his head a little, and makes a vague hand motion, retreating from the troll both physically and mentally. “What that fucking mean.” Kurloz rolls his eyes, and turns his voodoos on her. She goes ramrod straight and he feels her getting pissed.  
**_< MOTHERFUCKING RELAX SISTER. HE’S PARALYZED. NECK DOWN IT LOOKS LIKE.>_**She huffs a little, realizing she still has control of her faculties as he talks.  
“Don’t get in head, clown. Feel weird.”  
**_< SOME THINGS REQUIRE FURTHER EXPLANATION. JUST TRYIN TO UP AND EXPLAIN HOW DEEP THE SHIT YOU’RE ALL STANDIN IN IS.>_**His eyes slowly shift back to normal, and hers do to.  
“Oh you done now, huh?” She murmurs. He just takes the joint from her again. She growls a little. “You alchemize me more.” He shrugs, and she slumps a little, looking back at Rufioh. “What we do?” He shrugs, nudging the body a little with his foot as he smokes. “Should … maybe move from my land.” He tilts his head a little, and then points to Rufioh, makes a heart, and then a question. She considers this. “Yes. Can drop at Horuss planet. That work.” She scowls a little as she thinks, accepting the joint back. “No want see Horuss now. Fucking pissed. Might kill sweaty horse.” Kurloz shrugs a little, and bends down, picking the bronzeblood up. He could be gentler, he guessed, but it wasn’t like he could feel it. He hefts him over his shoulder, and then realizes he has to drag him down a fucking ladder.

Damara has stepped away a little, and he throws her a glance. She’s biting her lip a little, looking more nervous than he’s ever seen her. He tilts his head in question, and her face quickly turns irritated.  
“Oh, fuck off. Not moirail.” He rolls his eyes, and she huffs. “Whatever. I just think maybe … things going to get more bad.” She looks contemplative for a second. “Maybe kill Rufioh so not run mouth.” Kurloz spares the troll over his shoulder a glance, then shrugs again. “I know I say no in head but you fucking annoying when no say what think.” He grins, and just flips her off. He was dumping what was basically a corpse at this point for her. He could do what he wanted. She looks away, folding her arms. “Whatever.” After a moment she relaxes a little, and looks back to him. “What you think. Kill him?” His eyes glow again, and she flinches as he enters her head again.  
**_< WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT. YOU KNOW IT’LL SIT HEAVY ON YOUR PAN THOUGH. I DON’T CARE ABOUT HIM. HELL. I’LL KILL HIM IF YOU REALLY WANT, EVEN. BUT I DON’T THINK YOU’RE TOTALLY OVER THIS LOSER.>_**Damara fidgets a little.  
“Right. Okay then. Just give him to stupid blue blood.” Kurloz nods, and retreats from her mind once more. He flashes her a peace sign, and then begins his trek down the ladder.

It’s slow going with Rufioh on his shoulder, but he manages not to drop him or fall off. Small miracles. About halfway down he realizes Damara probably could have floated him, but he kind of understands her wanting the situation gone as soon as possible. Though things were definitely going to spiral from here. No way would Horuss let this go, as … weird as Horuss was, when his anger hit, it hit hard. Kurloz may or may not have dug in his mind before to get to the bottom of his neurosis, and his anger had been a constant low boil in his mind. An angry, perverted, sweaty freak. And yet he would never admit it. It was interesting to think about the facets of personality people refused to admit about themselves.

It doesn’t take long to get him to Horuss’s land. It’s a little barren here, and his house cuts an imposing figure on the landscape. Kurloz briefly considers just dumping the fairy troll on the ground and heading out, but then Rufioh’s head moves, his huge horns knocking against his back.  
“Oh my god…” He groans softly. “What..? I … can’t feel my legs… Shit…” His head rests against Kurloz’s back again, and Kurloz rolls his eyes. Fine. He’d take him to the house. Rufioh continues to mutter to himself as Kurloz takes him to the door. He bangs on the door loudly, making Rufioh groan softly. He resists the urge to jostle him in an attempt to shut him up.

Horuss opens the door after a moment, and seems to freeze. Kurloz gives him a grin and a wave, inviting himself in. The blueblood looks a little shell shocked, but he moves right past him, carrying Rufioh over to the couch.  
“Makara … What … What’s going on?” He asks. Kurloz sort of rolls Rufioh off his shoulder, setting him maybe a little roughly on the couch. He can’t feel it though, as evidenced by his lack of screaming as his broken bones are jostled around. “Who did this?” Horuss asks, horror and anger seeping out of him in turns. Kurloz looks at him, and then just shrugs. Rufioh moans softly in pain, and Kurloz’s eyes scan over the little fairy troll briefly. How interesting it was to see someone in pain. He exudes so much fear and exhaustion. It’s a dark energy, and it’s hypnotic.  
“D-Damara…” He groans, and Kurloz’s attention is pulled back to reality. Horuss’s face darkens, and the simmering anger inside of him seems to be on the rise.  
“That filthy … pail monger?” Kurloz would be amused at that if Horuss wasn’t set to kill. “I … Rufioh…” Who even said pail monger? And how funny, that he pretends to be any better. Damara isn’t a slut, she would never lay back and take it from just anyone. Horuss … would, if pushed. If that thought wasn’t vile, he might have tried to see how far he could push that aspect of his personality.  
“Can we like … worry about her later?” Rufioh murmurs. “I can’t … move anything.” Horuss straightens up, pushing down his anger.  
“Of … of course.” Kurloz sighs, andheads for the door, brushing past Horuss. Idiots. At least Rufioh was hot and stupid. “Kurloz … thank you.” Horuss calls after him. He doesn’t bother to turn around, just waving a little as he walks back to the transportalizer.

He hops back to his own land, sighing a little in relief. Gods that was … fucking irritating. He approaches his hive, and stops when he hears voices. Son of a bitch. He didn’t want any fucking visitors. As he rounds the corner of his hive he sees the two trolls, standing in his front lawnring and bickering. Mituna and Kankri. He watches for a moment, curious.  
“I have a right to be here too you know. This isn’t exactly private property and Kurloz is my … friend too! I can be wherever I like!”  
“All I was fucking asking is for you to tell me WHY you were here!” Mituna snaps.  
“I simply wished to talk to him, that’s all!”  
“Kurloz can’t talk.”  
“Well, listen! Whatever!” He snaps back. Kurloz decides to make his presence known, and steps out into where he can be seen, approaching the two.

He comes up behind Kankri, and Mituna moves his head subtly to look at him. He waves. Kankri starts to turn around, but Kurloz drapes an arm around the little mutie’s shoulders, leaning on him casually. Kankri shrieks like a wiggler and shoves him off, which makes him laugh quietly. Mituna snickers behind his hand.  
“Kurloz! That isn’t funny, you KNOW I don’t like being touched!” He yells. Kurloz shrugs, and then turns to go inside, gesturing for Mituna to come too. Mituna follows, leaving Kankri standing all red faced in the grass. “Wait! Kurloz, I wanted to talk!” He says, catching up to them. Kurloz steps inside, about to close the door on him. “KURLOZ!” Kankri shouts, shoving his foot in the door, blocking it. He opens the door a little, fixing Kankri with a dark look. “I would like it if you’d let me in.” He shakes his head. “I’m not in the mood for your games, Makara!” He shrugs. Wasn’t a motherfucking game. “What if I promised to make it quick?” Kankri barters, tone plying. Kurloz frowns a little. Nothing Kankri had to say was quick. Kankri seems to sense his hesitation, and tries to pry more. “Really. It’s important.” He sighs and pulls the door open. Kankri dusts himself off a little and steps in. 

He looks around in distaste as Kurloz shuts the door firmly behind him. He didn’t particularly care what the fussy asshole thought of his hive, though he knew it wasn’t a super welcoming place. Kurloz walks past him, leaving him to look around a bit. It must have been his first time here, or he was just gawking to make a point of how messy it was. He pads into the living area, where Mituna has already made himself more than comfortable, busy texting with one hand and playing with his lighter in the other, flicking it on and off. Kurloz messes with his hair as he walks past, and sits down next to him, pulling his legs onto his lap insistently. Mituna rolls his eyes but allows himself to be arranged so he was partially on Kurloz’s lap. Kankri wanders in slowly, looking at the two of them cautiously, like they were about to have a feelings jam right in front of him.  
“Listen, before you get into whatever bullshit you’re about to rant … Kurloz why the hell do you have blood all over you?” Mituna asks, looking at the shoulder Rufioh had hung over.  
_“It’s Rufioh’s.”_ He signs, and Mituna makes an irritated clicking noise.  
“No fucking shit man. Why was Rufioh bleeding?”  
_“Fell down. A lot.”_  
“Stop being deliberately evasive.”  
_“He fell off a tree. I’m not involved. Just carried him to Horuss.”_ Mituna relaxes a little, but not much.  
“How could he fall? He can fly.”  
_“Wings got fucked up. Not my business. Done talking about it.”_ Kurloz signs shortly, and pulls his pipe out of his pocket. _“Ask Kankri what the fuck he wants so he can get out sometime this perigee.”_ He signs before packing the bowl. Mituna looks at Kankri, who had been watching the exchange with interest, and then straightens when he sees Mituna paying attention to him.  
“He wants to know what you want.” Mituna says flatly.  
“Um … well I was hoping this could be private. Also … Rufioh fell?” Kurloz snorts a little, and then lights up, taking a big hit. “Can you not smoke around me? That’s very triggering!”  
_“No. I’ll smoke when I want to in my own motherfucking hive. Tell him to go ask Rufioh if he wants to know so motherfucking bad, and the only way I’d care enough to have a private conversation is if he wants to fuck.”_ Mituna laughs at that, and Kankri seems to be getting irritated.  
“What was all that?” He asks sharply.  
“He says just fucking talk to him, man.” Mituna says as Kurloz passes the pipe.  
“You should watch your language. It’s extremely-”  
“Triggering, yeah yeah, whatever. This is my safe space or whatever the fuck and I want to swear. It makes me feel better.” He replies, letting smoke seep out his mouth as he talked. Kankri’s looking a little like a tomato.  
“Fine! Fine. I just want to know … well, I guess how you feel about Meenah’s plan?” Kurloz shrugs  
_“I’m unattached to it.”_  
“I assume that means … indifferent.” Kankri says. Kurloz nods. “Well … how do you feel about mine?” Mituna snickers a little bit, and Kurloz gives a thumbs down. Kankri seems to take offense. “You don’t think it’s worthwhile to come together and fight as a team?”  
“KI, none of us like each other. It’s never gonna fuckin happen my man.” Mituna says as he passes the pipe back. “I told you all the second Meenah asked me to restore the game. If we played it, we’d die. Slow. Painful. Agonizing. You get it?” Kankri huffs.  
“Yes, I understand. Despite your unfortunate oral deformities I “read you loud and clear”, as they say.” Mituna flips him off and Kurloz laughs, and blows smoke at Kankri. He sputters, waving it away. “That was uncalled for!”  
_“Whatever.”_ The dismissive sign is easy to read even if Kankri didn’t know BSL. _“So what the fuck was all this about anyway? Didn’t know you cared enough for my opinion.”_ Kankri glances at Mituna.  
“He said why are you asking.” Mituna says, disinterested at this point and relaxing on the couch.  
“I … well I would have liked to have the two of you on my side, is all.” Kankri says. He sounds unusually … defeated. “And if I could sway Kurloz, he would sway you.” Kurloz shrugs a little, hitting the pipe again.  
“Dude stop hogging it.” Mituna whines. He passes it.  
_“It’s my fucking green. Asshole.”_ Kurloz signs dismissively. _“Tell him again that it doesn’t matter who’s in charge. We die either way.”_ Mituna huffs a little.  
“You know I hate translating. This is stupid just write to him.”  
_“No.”_  
“Kurloz says it doesn’t matter who’s in charge. We’re all going to die anyway. Like I’ve been saying. There’s no point to any of it.”  
“Well. That’s certainly a very bleak outlook isn’t it.” Kankri says, dryly.  
“And?” Mituna passes back to him.  
“And I would think you’d both be trying to change fate than just sit there, getting high and letting yourselves die!” Kankri yells. His face is getting redder. “Have you ever even considered that changing the MO would change those visions of doom you claim to have? That maybe we can be more than failures, that we can … we can win?” He seems to lose his steam as he comes to the end of his rant. He looks small, smaller than usual, cringing back. His fear is thick, seeping off of him, but his anger is hot and overpowering. It seems to decrease as the two just look at him. The silence is a yawning chasm between them, until Kankri breaks it. “...Well? You don’t have anything to say about that at all?” Kurloz smiles, and taps his stitches, then mimes zipping his lips. “I get it! You can’t talk! Sign, emote, express something except indifference!”  
“Kankri, like. Calm down.” Mituna says. Kankri seems to pause for a moment, and then clears his throat, and straightens himself out a little, adjusting his leggings a bit.  
“I … apologize. Of course. I shouldn’t have spoken so callously about the two of you and your disabilities and I hope I didn’t trigger you in any way. I am simply … very worried about us.” He says, seeming somewhat flustered by his own outburst. He folds his hands in his lap.  
“Listen, KI…” Mituna pauses. Even he’s unsure what he could say to Kankri right now. “If it makes you feel better, we could … say something to Meenah. But like…” He glances at Kurloz. He doesn’t acknowledge the look. “Um. Well. I don’t know if you even believe me about the visions but. Things go black for me really … really soon. I don’t think it’s gonna change.” Sadness is welling up in Kankri, pouring out of him. Kankri’s eyes shut for a moment, and his back straightens. The sadness spools back in, somewhat, and Kurloz is suddenly aware that he’s never actually seen Kankri cry. Interesting.  
“I appreciate that. Even if … even if we don’t have much longer, then I hope we could go out as a team, and not angry and miserable.” He sighs, and looks between the two. “I … I should go. I’m fairly … exhausted if I’m honest.” He frowns a little. “But, may I ask … Is Rufioh alright? I can’t help but dwell on that.” Kurloz pauses, then shakes his head a little.  
_“He’ll live.”_ Is all he offers.  
“He’ll live?” Mituna asks. “What exactly happened?” Kurloz doesn’t reply, messing with the pipe in his lap, flicking the lighter on and off. “Kurloz.”  
_“I don’t know the whole situation. I don’t want to talk about it.”_ He signs eventually. _“Tell Kankri to leave.”_ Mituna glances at Kankri.  
“Hey man. Uh. We need some time alone. Maybe you can talk to Rufioh about what happened, Kurloz took him to Horuss’s if you want.” Kankri hesitates, but nods.  
“I … yes, alright. I suppose I’ll see you both later.” Kankri leaves in a hurry, and Kurloz breathes a little easier when the front door clicks shut softly and the feeling of Kankri’s presence starts to fade.

Mituna doesn’t seem to want to give up on his line of questioning though.  
“Why won’t you tell me what the fuck happened with Rufioh, Kurloz?” He asks, pulling away a little. Kurloz sorely misses his warmth.  
_“Not much to tell.”_ He signs before relighting the pipe. He breathes the smoke in, and out, the way it filters through his stitches amusing.  
“Well what kinda shape was he in?”  
_“Why you gotta ruin my good time, bumblebee?”_ He asks. _“He’s really fucked, man. Couldn’t trigger his nerves to his limbs. Fucker must be paralyzed.”_ Mituna doesn’t really say anything.  
“How’d it happen? Can’t you just tell me? It’ll go around soon enough anyway.” Kurloz sighs, takes another hit and holds it as he signs.  
_“Damara snapped a little bit. Could have been worse.”_ He lets it go, watching it drift up.  
“Jesus…” Mituna says. Kurloz leans forward and taps the bowl out on the ashtray on the table. Nothing but ash at this point. “Pack another one man. Uh. Shit. How … how the fuck’d you get into this shit though?” He asks. Kurloz takes his time on replying, busy packing the bowl again. When he finally finishes he hands it back over, and Mituna lights it.  
_“Damara asked for help.”_  
“Help?”  
_“Moving the body.”_ Mituna shudders a little.  
“Jesus KZ, he’s not a body.” Kurloz shrugs.  
_“Might as well have been. He’s lucky he can’t feel all that shit that’s broken.”_  
“Damn.” Mituna says, and then takes a hit. “What do you think is going to happen, now?” Kurloz pauses for a moment. He can feel the pressure starting up again, making his brain feel like it’s in a vice. It gets worse, and worse, and he tries to ignore it as he signs.  
_“Horuss will go after Damara and hideously underestimate her. He'll die. Then Damara’s gonna snap for real and go on a spree, starting with Meenah. Just … a hunch.”_ He signs, and doesn’t know where exactly that came from. The pressure crashes like a wave, making him physically flinch, but it’s gone just as quickly. It leaves him dizzy, but relieved.  
“Whoa KZ … dark.” Mituna murmurs. “But I have to say … accurate.” Kurloz just holds a hand out for the pipe, without any further comment. As he lights it, he can’t help the sinking feeling that it’s entirely too accurate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another one bites the dust ........... sorry rufioh (but im not really)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a party is had. rufioh is a horse, and then he isnt. mituna contemplates his own death. kurloz's grasp on reality become dangerously thin. welcome to ........ chapter six

Kurloz is welcomed back to consciousness in a very merciless way, waking up as he falls off the couch and hits the floor. Above him, Meulin starts giggling. He groans softly, head throbbing with an early morning headache.  
“Wow Purrloz, graceful!” Meulin laughs, peeking down at him. He huffs a little, pulling himself up. “For an acrobat you fall a pawful lot, you know!” He pulls himself up, heavily leaning on the coffee table.  
_“As you’ve said, many times.”_ He signs, looking down at her. His back aches, and he stretches a little. His support column pops loudly. He grits his teeth, taking a deep breath. Meulin seems to find this an ideal time to poke the strip of skin exposed to her. Hard. He flinches and gives her a look, just making her laugh all cute and shit. _“Fuck was that for?”_ She sticks her tongue out at him.  
“Just wanted to bother you!” She hops up and gives him a kiss on his cheek, and then bounces away, disappearing into his nutrition block. He watches her go for a moment, then looks at the half smoked pipe on the table, abandoned from the morning before. It was a little bit of a haze, what had happened, but that was okay. They had to to forget what Horuss had decided to do to “fix” Rufioh.

Gods.

Poor bastard would have been better off paralyzed than in that robot horse contraption. Horuss was … out of hand. Rufioh hadn’t contacted anyone about it for a week, and finally Horuss couldn’t keep it to himself and began to brag about it to everybody, shoving pictures in people's faces of the … very accurate anatomy. He shakes his head, trying to clear the thoughts away like an etch-a-sketch. He really didn’t want to think about Horuss’ horse fetish right now, much less this godsdamned early.

The floorboards creak softly as he walks after Meulin, quietly entering the nutrition block. He places a hand gently on her arm to let her know he’s there and she startles a little, but turns to him and gives him a sweet smile, which he returns. She grabs a cup out of his cupboard and moves over to the sink as he leans against the counter, watching her, the window framing her perfectly. She’s lit up by the moonlight, seemingly glowing with it. Even her messy hair and pajamas were ethereal to him, and he falls in love with her again.

He needs to stop. Had to stop. She wasn’t interested anymore, and that was the end of it. He should be glad she’s still in his life at all. He tears his eyes away from her, and walks over to his fridge.  
“Are you gonna eat?” Meulin asks, surprising him. He glances at her, watching him now, sipping the water she held in her hands.  
_“Maybe.”_ She rolls her eyes.  
“You’re gonna starve to death if you don’t eat!” She says. He grins a little.  
_“Good.”_ She huffs.  
“Not good!!! We’d all be basically lost without you, you know.” His smile drops somewhat, but he recovers.  
_“It’s sweet that you think that of this motherfucker truly. But I don’t believe even holy help will bring us back from damnation now.”_ Meulin doesn’t respond to that, just eyes him over. She’s thinking about something, wanting to ask him something, but she doesn’t, so he doesn’t comment.

A good friendship is all about the things you don’t say, in the end.

He pulls a container of juice out of the fridge, turning towards the cupboards to grab a cup. He knocks the fridge shut with his foot as an afterthought, Meulin’s eyes are still on him, and it’s unnerving him a little. He pours himself a glass and grabs a straw, and sets the juice back in his fridge.  
“Kurloz.” He grabs his glass before looking at her. “What’s going to happen to us?” He blinks once. “You know something, I can tell. You’re always so sneakrative, but I know you. You’re hiding something important.” He taps on the side of his glass a few times, thinking about what he wants to say. Eventually he sets it down again, and starts to sign.  
_“It’s not important, Kitty. You already know the biggest thing.”_  
“So we’re … really going to die then.” She says. He nods. “I thought maybe we … could have changed that.”  
_“Not in the cards for us. But something better awaits.”_  
“You mean the dark carnival?” She asks. He grins.  
_“Eventually.”_ She smiles hesitantly.  
“Well … I guess I’m just going to have to trust you on that.” He nods. A faint ding rings from upstairs, and he glances towards the stairs. “What is it?”  
_“Husktop’s just going off.”_ There’s a short pause, and then a bunch of noise as messages start really coming through.  
_Ding_  
_Ding_  
_Ding_  
_Ding_  
He huffs, the noise irritating.  
“Are you going to answer?” She asks, setting her empty cup in the sink. He pauses.  
_“I’ll just see who it is.”_ He says, pulling away from the counter and walking upstairs.

He opens the respiteblock door, and shuts it carefully behind him. It clicks softly, and he just stands there a moment. His head feels foggy, and he runs a hand through his messy hair, pulling out a few snarls. He huffs, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to bring himself to the present. He felt so … detached from real life. The person, or people messaging him don’t let up, and the noise is like a hammer to his pan.  
_Ding_  
_Ding_  
_DingDingDing_  
_Ding_  
He opens his eyes, and pulls out the chair in front of his husktop, sitting down.  
Oh.  
It’s Meenah’s memo board again. He frowns a little as he reads it.

callousCurule [CC]  opened memo on board WELCOME TO SHELL

CC: hey you glubbin losers  
CC: ive decided to throw a little get together  
CC: since its the anniversary of us gettin into this game  
CC: and a party with a bunch a losers is betta than a party by myshellf.  
clairvoyantGoliard [CG] responded to the memo.  
CG: Meenah I must say that a party hardly seems an appr9priate resp9nse t9 9ur frankly dire situati9n. Instead 9f c9nsuming sugary drinks and dancing, we sh9uld really 6e talking t9 9ne an9ther a69ut h9w t9 d9 6etter as a team.  
grantedArdour [GA] responded to the memo.  
GA: O+h Kankri, we do+ really need to+ relax fo+r a mo+ment tho+ugh.   
GA: A party so+unds like a great excuse to+ have fun.  
casanovaAquatic [CA] responded to the memo.  
CA: sounds like a real blast meenah  
CA: lookin forwvard to seein you again  
CA: last time wve hung out you left real quick like  
CC: uhhhhh  
CC: anybay 38\  
technophileAgonized [TA] responded to the memo.  
TA: /4WKW4RD CR1CK37 CH1RP  
CA: fuck off captor  
TA: WH473V3R 175 4 PU8L1C M3M0 1 C4N D0 WH47 1 W4N7 4MP0RN4  
CA: that’s not evwen howv you spell my name dumbshit  
TA: 1 KN0W  
TA: I541DWH471541D.G1F  
guivreChillaxing [GC] responded to the memo.  
taciturnCharientism [TC] responded to the memo.  
GC: n1c3 on3 tun4 b4b3!  
TC: :o)  
CA: oh great nowv you’re gonna sic your wvhole crewv on me huh?  
CA: cant speak for yourself?  
CA: i guess it’s kinda hard to through your mutated mouth.  
CG: Cr9nus y9u’re 6eing very pr96lematic right n9w. Insulting th9se with 9ral def9rmities, n9 matter h9w inc9nvenient and inc9mprehensi6le it makes them, is deeply triggering t9 many tr9lls. I kn9w it is very hard t9 understand th9se similarly disadvantaged, like 9ur dear friend Mituna, 6ut y9u must 6e vigilant in checking y9ur privilege.  
TA: Y34H 4MP0RN4 Y0UR3 7R1GG3R1NG M3  
TA: H3LP H3LP 1M 831NG 0PPR3553D  
CG: Mituna I must say that y9u are als9 6eing very pr96lematic in that y9u are all9wing y9urself t9 6e talked d9wn t9. Y9u’re setting back warm6l99d AND disa6led tr9ll rights 6y standing there and all9wing y9urself t9 6e m9cked. It’s extremely tr9u6ling that y9u w9uld all9w y9urself t9 6e m9cked in such a way. Y9u h9nestly might have t9 expect such treatment 6eing s9 willing t9 6e 9ppressed.  
TA: W0W  
CA: HAH!  
CC: clam it guppies  
CC: no one wants to sea your pitch flirting bullship  
CC: or red’s pathetic ausfishtice attempts  
CG: I AM N9T ASHEN F9R THEM I’VE T9LD Y9U A TH9USAND TIMES I AM CELI6ATE, MEENAH!  
CC: lmfao  
TC: :o)  
CG: I AM SERI9US! My celi6acy is n9t t9 6e taken as s9me s9rt 9f j9ke!  
CC: conchsider this your offishial UN-invitation, nubby  
CG: I didn’t want t9 g9 anyway! As if I w9uld enj9y getting drunk and making a f99l 9f myself as y9u all seem S9 eager t9 d9!  
GA: Kankri just calm do+wn, it’s fine.  
GC: y34h just ch1ll m4n. w3 4ll know your3 gonn4 show up 4nyway!   
GA: I feel like we’re a bit o+ff track no+w.  
CC: whale there wasnt reely too much of a point there, just inviting you losers over tomorrow.  
CC: in hindsight maybe i shoald have kept this memo board closed. youre all glubbin intolerable on this fuckin thing  
anecdoteTeller [AT] responded to the memo.  
AT: oh… 1 d1dn’t know we were st1ll us1ng th1s th1ng.  
CC: oh ship  
CC: hey rufioh  
CC: how’s that uh. body treating you  
AT: well… you know… th1ngs could be better.  
caballineTaction [CT] responded to the memo.  
CT: I think it suits you very well, Rufioh.  
AT: haha yeah horuss 1t’s… good.  
CT: Of course it is. I made it.  
TA: 0H G0D 7H15 15 4WKW4RD  
CT: It would behoove you to not comment on my relationship with my matesprit. Our connection is STRONG and that is what matters.  
AT: yeah…  
AT: 1 don’t know 1f 1’m gonna make 1t, doll… sorry…  
CC: conchsidering the circumstances … i get it  
AT: sounds l1ke 1t’d be fun though… hope you guys enjoy 1t  
CT: I do not believe I will be attending either.  
CT: As honored as I am that you would invite me, Miss. Pei%es, parties are not really “my thing”  
CC: um. shore, horuss. its cool  
TC: I’m probably not gonna motherfucking make it either.  
CC: as much as i dont reely like you at all  
CC: you betta come bring some of your stash or this partys gonna suck  
TC: I don’t have to do anything.  
TC: You could always alchemize your own.  
CC: youre the only one who got the code!  
TC: Damara has it.  
CC: the only one who isn’t batshit crazy  
TC: Guess you’ll have to figure it the motherfuck out then princess.  
CC: i swear im gonna glubbin krill you one of these days.  
TA: 1’LL 8R1NG 50M37H1NG MH.  
TA: 1F 1 C4N’7 C0NV1NC3 KZ.  
TC: Whatever.  
CC: whatever.  
GA: I wo+uld be interested in seeing yo+u there, Kurlo+z.  
GA: Yo+u’ve barely said so+ much as hello+ to+ anyo+ne recently.  
GC: 1f th3 dud3 w4nts pr1vacy 1t’s no b1gg13 though, you know?  
GA: Latula, am I detecting a small amo+unt o+f nervo+usness to+wards o+ur friend?  
GC: no!  
GC: 1’m just s4y1ng h3 w4nts to b3 l3ft 4lon3 you know?  
TC: I’ll come.  
GA: Ho+w exciting…  
GC: y34h.

Kurloz clicks away, even though the conversation continues. He sighs softly, burying his face in his hands and rubbing. His eyes burn a little. After a moment, he gets up, making his way back downstairs. He steps into the nutrition block again, and Meulin perks up when she sees him.  
“You were gone a pawful long time!”  
_“Was a memo. Meenah’s throwing a party.”_ Kurloz signs. Her tail twitches a little in interest.  
“Oh, really? How exciting!”  
_“Is it?”_ He asks. She pouts.  
“Purrloz you’re so diffurcult! There can’t be a party without you, you know!” He shrugs.  
_“I’m going. Couple people don’t really want me there but Meenah wants green so that’s my fucking job apparently.”_  
“I’m sure they do want you there though!!! And I’m sure that Meenah wants you there because you’re you, not just catnip.” He smiles a little.  
_“Maybe so, Kitty. We’ll have to see. So I take it you’re coming?”_ She nods, bouncing on the balls of her feet.  
“Of course! That sounds fun!” She grins widely. “We might even get you a new quad!!! I bet that would cheer you up!” He gives a thumbs down, and she pouts again, tail tucking under her short skirt. “Aw, Purrloz!!! I think a new red or black quad would really cheer you up, though!”  
_“I don’t do black quads.”_  
“You totally do!” She sticks her tongue out at him, and he just gives her a tired look. “Horuss could totally handle a black fling with you! Or maybe Cronus … ooh, Mituna fish and Cronus are so pitch flirty, but you and Cronus would be SO good! Or Porrim … you two aren’t very antagonistic though, so maybe red..? No, I don’t think that would work. You two aren’t very compatible, honestly! But you’d be pretty together for sure!” She giggles. “But it would be so fun if you just tried, Purrloz!” He sighs softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. After a moment he responds.  
_“If I agree to try, can we stop talking about it?”_ She squeals.  
“Yes!!!!!! Okay! I’m done then! Done!” She’s bouncing in excitement. “I’m gonna be SUCH a good wingman for you tomorrow!” He somehow doubts that.

The next night is not very welcoming. Meulin wakes him up by whapping him with a pillow, and he glares at her while she laughs. He can’t help but to smile along, though. She pulls him up.  
“Come ooooon sleepy head! Come shower with me!” He doesn’t protest to this much, mostly because she wasn’t really looking at him, so he couldn’t sign. She drags him to his ablution block, and tugs at his shirt. “Hurry up! We slept alllll night! We’re totally gonna be late!”  
_“Isn’t it considered good to be fashionably late though?”_ He asks, though he takes his shirt off, and steps over the tub, turning the water on to as hot as he could handle. It’d probably be barely warm enough for her. He can hear her undressing behind him.  
“Mmmmmmmaybe!” She says, as her underwear hits the floor. “But I want to be on time! More time for fun… And matchmaking!” She giggles, and he glances at her. “What? Did you think i just furgot, Purrloz? As if!” She tests the water for a moment before stepping in. “Come on! Jeez you’re slow!” He rolls his eyes, and takes his boxers off, stepping in after her. He hisses softly as the water hits his skin. He’d be purple after this with how hot it was. Meulin seemed fine, though. She’s currently stealing his shampoo, it seems like. He sighs, and grabs the bodywash. She was lucky he liked her so much.

It takes a while to get done with the shower, especially since Meulin insisted on combing his hair out, but finally they’re both clean and dressed. She’s watching him paint his face intently when someone bangs on the door. He perks up a little, seeking out the presence, and finding Mituna.  
_“Meulin, Mituna’s knocking on the door. Can you let him in?”_  
“Oh!!! Sure!” She hops up, and disappears. After a moment the door opens, and he hears Meulin squeal loudly, and he smiles softly. “HI MITUNA-FISH!!!” She shouts. Mituna’s response is too soft for him to hear, but after a moment footsteps come up the stairs, and his diamond peeks in. Kurloz gives him a little wave.  
“Hey man. Fuck you look good.” He comments, coming over and leaning against him, looking at the two of them in the mirror. “You’re actually going then, huh?”  
_“Said I’d be there. Much to Latula’s dismay.”_ Mituna makes a small noise.  
“Don’t take it personally, dude. She didn’t mean it like that. She doesn’t have a filter.” Kurloz shrugs, capping his paint and putting it up, and then washing his hands. Mituna’s mismatched eyes burn holes in him. “You don’t like Latula much, huh?”  
_“She’s okay. I’m happy for you two.”_ He signs after a moment, grabbing the towel and drying his hands. He can tell Mituna’s rolling his eyes, even though he has no pupils.  
“Whatever man. You can just say you don’t like her.” He shrugs again. “She says Porrim’s interested in you now that you and Meulin aren’t a thing.” _“So that’s what that was about. On the memo.”_  
“Probably. You goin’ for it?”  
_“Probably not. Meulin wants to set me up though.”_ Mituna laughs. _“She wants to find me a spade.”_  
“You don’t hate anyone in our group enough. Even if you did, you’d probably wreck them. Too bad all the other purples are dead, your spades is closed forever.”  
_“She doesn’t seem to quite get that.”_ Mituna looks him up and down, pausing for a moment.  
“You still got it bad for her, man?” He hesitates. “Uh huh. Dude. Just tell her you wanna try again.”  
_“If she wants to be together again she’ll tell me. She’s trying to set me up with other people. I’d say that our ship has sailed.”_ Mituna frowns.  
“Yeah … that’s a pretty accurate assessment. I dunno. Maybe get with Porrim, see if you can pail it out. Stress relief. You’re still hangin with MN all the time, of course you’re still attached. Just find somebody new.”  
_“I don’t like any of them.”_  
“You don’t have to like or hate someone to pail them.” Mituna says. Meulin pops in just then, almost bouncing with excitement.  
“Are you guys ready??? Let’s go already!” Meulin takes his hand, dragging him out. He doesn’t have a choice but to follow, and Mituna laughs, close behind him.

The party isn’t very fun, it turns out. Yes, he could drink and smoke himself stupid, but it didn’t change the fact that Kankri had crashed and was complaining about the lyrics of Meenah’s music while getting wasted, or that the music was so loud it felt like it was reverberating in his head, or that most of the others avoided him.  
“Hey! Freakshow!” He looks in the direction of the call, and looks down at Meenah, who’s smiling with all her teeth. She looks like a shark, he notes, sipping the drink in his hand. “You bring the good ship?”  
_“Just say weed, fish bitch.”_ He signs one handed, and then pulls an ounce out of his jacket, tossing it to her.  
“Oh shell yeah. You got papers, clown?” He shrugs. He used pieces, and he didn’t have an extra one on him. Like hell would he just give her his. “Fuck does that mean? Where’s your glubbin’ handler?” She asks, looking around. He huffs a little, relaxing back against the wall, and she looks at him. “I’ll be back. Tuna! Where you at bouy!” She walks away, leaving him to watch the only activity going on in the room, Kankri complaining to Porrim. He’s obviously shitfaced, a dark flush on his cheeks. Porrim glances from her unofficial charge to him, looking him up and down. He looks away. She was probably hungry is all that was about. Everyone knew she liked highbloods.  
“God, Meenah, stop pushing!” He hears Mituna nearby, and looks up. The two come into view, Mituna looking extremely disgruntled. “Kurloz, fuck is this about?”  
_“She wants papers, but I don’t do joints. All I have is my piece.”_  
“He says all he has is a pipe, Meenah.” She pouts.  
“Whale lemme borrow it!” She demands.  
_“I don’t loan it. Only if I’m in the circle.”_ Mituna more or less translates that.  
“Fiiine. Ugh. Then get your boney glubbin ass in the next room.” He detaches from the wall, following them into the next room, where most of the people who showed up were. He sits down next to Mituna, pulling his pipe out.  
“Meenah give him the stash back.” Mituna says. She tosses it over and he catches it, starting to pack the pipe.  
“Whoa, Kurloz is gonna start this huh?” Latula asks, as Porrim and Kankri wander in.  
“I mean it’s all his.” Mituna says, putting an arm around her. Kurloz ignores them, packing the bowl. He lights it first, taking a big hit, and passes to Mituna.  
“Oh fuuuck I don’t have a lighter.” Cronus mutters from across the circle. He eyes up Meulin next to him. “Hey kitten, you got something?” Meulin giggles.  
“No! Maybe Purrloz can share his though!” She winks at Kurloz, and he rolls his eyes.  
“Uhhh…”  
“Clam it Amshora.” Meenah grouches, and takes a lighter out of her pocket, tossing it to him. “I want that back, or I’ll have your globes.”  
“Thanks babe.” Cronus catches it, perking up at the attention. Mituna snickers behind his hand, making Cronus’s expression sour a bit. “Fuck off Captor.” He says as Meulin passes to him.  
“Don’t be so sensitive, Ampora.” He snaps back. “Maybe I wasn’t even paying attention to you.” Latula cackles, getting cozy with Mituna. Kurloz feels a rush of air as Porrim sits on his other side, getting awfully close. He glances at her, tilting his head a little. She just smiles. He hadn’t even noticed her entry to the room.  
“We … really should NOT be smoking that … It’s very … bad for us…” Kankri murmurs, a ways away, but near enough to observe.  
“Kankri just pass out already, you’re wasted.” Porrim says gently. Kankri puffs up a little.  
“I … resent that. I’m not wasted!” There’s a round of laughter. “I’m not!”  
“Shore, nubby.” Meenah says, rolling her eyes.  
“Now now, don’t be mean to Kankri. It’s not his fault he’s such a lightweight!” Aranea chimes in, laughing delicately. Kurloz’s eyes linger on her. Aranea was an interesting troll. Her malice rested barely under her surface, concealed by a layer of sugar syrup, too sweet and cloying. He looks away, messing with the lighter in his lap. Next to him, Porrim hits the pipe, and passes it to him. He takes it, lights it again, and hits it. Passes it. The repetitive nature of these sort of things relaxed him.  
“Now, I HATE to gossip…” Porrim starts. Aranea laughs gently again as Meenah and Latula cackle. Porrim glares at them. “But I do wonder … So what exactly did you do in that mouth of yours, Kurloz?” He feels Mituna sit up a little straighter, peeking over at Porrim. Across the way, Meulin’s tail twitches, a bit nervously.  
“PM, c’mon, that’s a little … invasive, don’t you think?”  
“What? I’m just curious.” She deflects. Everyone is really paying attention now though.  
“Efurryone knows already though.” Meulin chimes in, glancing at him. He shrugs.  
“Do you still have your teeth?” Latula blurts out. He looks to her, and then starts to laugh quietly behind his stitches, and nods.  
“LA, jeez…” Mituna mutters. “The only thing missing in his mouth is his tongue, alright?” Mituna tells them all.  
“Shame.” Porrim chimes in.  
“Your bulge is showing Maryam.” Cronus leers a little, and she fixes him with a dark look. He shrinks back.  
“I have more self control than that, Ampora. Your experiences are not universal.” Meenah “ooooohs”, accepting the pipe from Meulin.  
“Porrim could…” Kankri pauses to hiccup. “Porrim could do MUCH better than Kurloz.” Kurloz has to agree.  
“Kankri’s useless filter got washed away, looks like.” Aranea titters. Meenah laughs along, leaning against the cerulean. Meulin watches them with interest. “Do tell us what you really think Kankri!”  
“I!” He starts, then pauses. “Um. Where is the restroom?”  
“Down the hall, starboard, nubby. Don’t puke on anything!” He’s gone in a moment, and Kurloz smirks as he hears Kankri start to vomit. “Gross.” Meenah comments.  
“If only he wasn’t such an asshole, he’d be almost pitiable.” Aranea adds. Meenah seems to agree.  
“Aw c’mon, guys. He doesn’t really mean it!” Latula chimes in. “He’s just sheltered, or whatever.” Her voice gets low. “You know, I heard he was slated to be culled before we entered the game.”  
“Oh ship. Reely?” Meenah asks, leaning in towards her.  
“Latula, that’s … very private.” Porrim says, passing the pipe without hitting it. Kurloz takes it, actually listening to Latula for once.  
“I mean it’s not THAT big a deal!” She says. “He’s a cherry mutant, of COURSE they were gonna cull him! It’s crazy he wasn’t culled already!”  
“Well…” Porrim starts, but stops herself. “No. I’m not talking about this with you busybodies. Culling is a very … delicate topic. We shouldn’t talk about it behind his back.”  
“Culled trolls are supposed to be easy, I heard.” Cronus gripes. “His nook is all shut up like a vault!”  
“That’s gross, Cronus.” Mituna says flatly, before taking a hit.  
“What? Everybody knows that already!”  
“Yeah I don’t wanna talk about Kankri and his supposed celibacy. I preefer to think he’s like a Keyien doll down there. Smooth and shit. Nofin goin on.” Latula snickers.  
“Yeah. He is cute sometimes though, with how he pretends he ain’t crushin’ on nobody!” She chimes in. “He’s totally pale for Porrim!”  
“I don’t believe so.” Porrim says cooly. “He seems to dislike my hovering. But I just can’t help it, he’s so little and cullable!” There’s a soft noise at the doorway, and everyone turns to look. Kankri stands there, swaying a little.  
“Were … you talking about me?” He asks, uncertainly.  
“No! Noooo, we were talking about one of Porrim’s exes!” Latula covers quickly. Kankri shrugs, and sits down next to Porrim.  
“Too many of them to remember.” He mumbles, leaning against Porrim’s side. She rolls her eyes, but wraps an arm around him.  
“I suppose that is true enough.” She acquiesces. There’s a soft couple of dings, and Meenah pulls her shellphone out of her pocket, flipping it open. She groans.  
“God clam it. Horuss is freaking out aboat somefin. Why he always gotta talk to me aboat his bullship?”  
“He’s in love with you, duh.” Kankri chimes in.  
“Whale kind of? It’s weird.”  
“Everything about Horuss is weird, dear.” Aranea says, patting her arm. Meenah laughs.  
“That’s true.” She snickers.  
“What does Horuss want?” Meenah checks her phone again.  
“Some ship aboat Rufioh. Alwaves aboat Rufioh.” She clicks her phone shut after firing a brief message off. “Doesn’t matter. Meulin pass that ship or I’ll krill you for reel.” Meulin passes quickly, tail twitching a little. Kurloz makes a hand motion towards Meenah, and then draws a line across his neck. “Yeah yeah yeah.” She waves him off.

The rest of the night passes without much incident, Kurloz being one of the first to leave. He didn’t much care for being there. Meulin leaves with him, though she pouts about it, and Mituna stays with Latula. They were making out pretty heavily when he saw them last. Meulin ragged on him halfway into the day about not trying it with anyone. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Being around all of them made him really think about how much he didn’t care for them at all.

When he finally drags him ass out of his coon the next evening, Meulin had already left. He found a little note telling him she went back to her hive, with a cute cat picture drawn on the bottom. He smiles and sets the note down on his desk, next to his husktop. Doing so made the flashing notification catch his eye. He frowned, seeing a message from Horuss. He hated talking with Horuss, but he checked the message, remembering Meenah mentioned him panicking over something.

caballineTaction [CT] has begun trolling  taciturnCharientism [TC]

CT: Makara.  
CT: I am sorry to bother you.  
CT: But if it behooves you may I have a moment of your time tonight?  
CT: Miss. Pie%es has not responded to my messages. Neither has Ampora.  
CT: Rufioh’s beautiful new body hit a snag.  
CT: Fiddlesti%

It stops there, and Kurloz weighs his options briefly before just responding.

TC: Fuck man I was at Meenah’s. Didn’t get these.  
TC: You good?

There’s a long pause.

CT: Yes.  
CT: Everything appears to be … fine, now.  
TC: Okay..? The fuck even happened?  
CT: There were a few … miscalculations made with Rufioh’s new body. A fatal flaw.  
CT: It was e%treme enough that the body was overloded and … e%ploded.  
TC: So he’s dead?  
CT: No.  
CT: Well.  
CT: Briefly.  
TC: Cool.  
CT: I … suppose it could be considered … “cool”, if the death of my romantic partner amuses you so.  
TC: :o/  
TC: So what the fuck is going on now?  
CT: I was able to revive Rufioh, using his Prospitian double of course.  
TC: He god tier now then? Damn.  
CT: No, he didn’t die on his quest slab.  
CT: He is simply … alive again?  
CT: Makara if I can be frank with you, I have no idea how the mechanics of this troublesome game work.  
TC: You and everybody else, man.  
CT: At least I do not have to be worried about being alone in that.  
TC: Well I guess it’s motherfuckin cool it all worked out man.  
CT: I would more describe the situation as … horrifying.  
CT: But I am glad that Rufioh is well, and whole again.  
CT: Though I do admit that I miss his quadrapedic beast body. It was so elegant.  
TC: Hide your bulge Zahhak.  
CT: That is incredibly lewd and I resent that.  
TC: Don’t pretend you hate it when people mention pailing.  
CT: …  
CT: Is that an order?

taciturnCharientism [TC] has ceased trolling caballineTaction [CT]

Kurloz groans softly and rubs his hands over his face. Every time he talked to that pervert it got more and more disgusting. Though he supposed it couldn’t really get worse than the time he was in the same room as him for an hour and he could tell Zahhak was fantasizing about him. Fucking voodoos gave him way too much information sometimes.

Okay. New line of thought, immediately. He was not going to think about Horuss. Instead … he goes back to his chumproll and clicks on Mituna’s handle.

taciturnCharientism [TC]  has begun trolling  technophileAgonized 

TC: Yo.  
TC: Hornuss say Rufioh’s got his real body back somehow.  
TA: H4H4 N1C3 0N3  
TA: F0R R34L 7H0UGH 7H3Y G07 H15 80DY 84CK? FUCK1N CR4ZY.  
TC: Yeah I don’t know. Zahhak said something about resurrecting his Prospit double? Fuck if I know.  
TA: 5H17 50 N17R4M W3N7 G0D 713R?  
TC: He says no.  
TA: HUH  
TA: LMF40 H0W M4NY 71M35 D1D H3 7RY 70 G37 Y0U 70 FUCK H15 5W347Y N00K 7H0UGH 15 7H3 R34L QU35710N  
TC: Just one vague attempt.  
TA: D4MN.  
TA: 7H475 0N3 0F 7H3 0NLY 50URC35 0F 3N73R741NM3N7 N0W  
TC: Yeah it’s a real fuckin laugh dude.  
TA: 3V3N 7H3 7H0UGH7 0F 17 M4K35 M3 W4NN4 V0M  
TC: My sentiment exactly.  
TA: 4W Y0UR3 N07 G0NN4 G1V3 4ND 713 7H47 H0R53 UP?  
TC: You gotta stop. If I have to throw up through my stitches over this I’m not talking to you for a perigee.  
TA: #LMF40N457Y  
TA: 0K4Y 0K4Y  
TA: …  
TA: H4V3 Y0U 7H0UGH7 480U7 G01NG G0D T13R?  
TC: Not really. The idea is definitely … uncomfortable.  
TA: Y34H 8U7 1D 7H1NK Y0UD 83 D0WN F0R 17. 1 KN0W Y0U’R3 PL0771NG 50M37H1NG 81G, M1GH7 D0 17 JU57 70 3N5UR3 Y0U 533 17 7HR0UGH.

Kurloz feels the pressure come in, vicing his brain in an inescapable grip. He grits his teeth.

TC: I don’t know what you mean, motherfucker.  
TA: R1GH7.  
TA: 17 D035N7 R34LLY M4773R 70 M3 1 GU355.  
TA: 175 N07 L1K3 WH473V3R H4LF 84K3D PL4N Y0U H4V3 15 WH475 D00M1NG U5.  
TC: Of course not.  
TC: …  
TC: Have you thought about going god tier?  
TA: W3 4LL D13 4NYW4Y  
TA: …   
TA: 1 H4V3 833N C0N51D3R1NG 17.  
TC: How seriously though?  
TA: 1 W45 7H1NK1NG 1 M1GH7 FUCK 4R0UND 4ND D0 17 PR377Y 500N  
TC: Mituna what the fuck?  
TA: WH47?  
TA: 1 4LR34DY 5C0U73D 7H3 57U1P1D 5L48 0U7  
TA: 4C7U4LLY W45N7 H4RD 70 F1ND 78H  
TA: 175 N07 L1K3 7H3R3’5 4 R3450N N07 70  
TA: 1 GU355 1M JU57 CUR10U5.  
TC: I suppose you’re right.  
TC: Wonder how it feels to die.  
TC: Guess you’ll have to motherfucking tell me.  
TA: 50 Y0U R34LLY D0N7 W4N7 70 G0 G0D 713R HUH.  
TC: I … don’t know.  
TC: :o/  
TC: Can you actually come over?  
TC: I feel like we need to up and fuckin talk about this shit.  
TA: UH Y34H 1 C4N  
TA: L37 M3 54Y 8Y3 70 7UL4  
TC: Oh you’re with her?  
TA: H3LL Y34H M4N  
TA: Y0U KN0W W3 G07 17 G01N 0N  
TA: 80W CH1CK4 W0W W0W  
TC: I absolutely do not want to think about you two pailing.  
TA: Y34H Y34H Y34H  
TA: 570P 831NG 5UCH 4 WR1GGL3R 480U7 MY 53X L1F3 Y0UR3 L1K3 P4R7 0F 17.  
TC: Extremely infrequently.  
TA: LMF40 FUCK 1 H4V3N7 3V3N 70LD 7UL4 480U7 0UR R41L1N 4ND P41L1N  
TC: It’s not like it’s her business. Her quad is red. Ours is pale.   
TA: 7RU3 8U7 Y0U KN0W 7R0LL5 83 H3473D 0V3R 7H15 5H17  
TA: 8U7 D15R3G4RD1NG 7H47 C0NV3R54710N 1LL 83 0V3R 1N 4 M1NU73

technophileAgonized [TA] has ceased trolling taciturnCharientism [TC]

Kurloz sighs a little, leaning back in his chair. His head still hurt, the pressure remained a constant.

_The psionic will be a problem. Fix it, end him, fix this._

He wanted to smack his head against the wall to get the thought out of his brain. He would never hurt Mituna. Never. Not even if Mituna stopped being pale with him, not even if Mituna tried to kill him. So whoever is in his head can shove it up their wastechute, because there HAS to be a better way.

The vice around his pan lessens slightly, before almost doubling what it was before. Kurloz grits his teeth, bracing himself against the arms of his chair. It hurts, it hurts so bad he can’t think, can’t manage to grab onto his voodoos as they slip away from him.

_You are not in charge here. I have broken more powerful beings than you._

Kurloz gasps, the words like daggers burrowing into his brain. His vision is going dark, slowly. It hurts more than getting stabbed, more than ripping his tongue out. He can’t … He sees blood, blood everywhere, and while he knows it’s his own brain turned against him he feels a little sick, something in him screaming he was to blame for all this gore.

He’s shaking, he can feel it, and he closes his eyes, trying to keep the scene from getting any worse, the gold blood spilled everywhere making him dangerously close to vomiting. How could he? How could he? He gets up, trying to escape his own brain. He can’t think, he can’t make sense of anything it’s not real but it’s so real. His claws dig into his palms, and he feels his blood dripping down his skin.

“Kurloz?” He flinches. No, no one can be here, he’s dangerous, he’s gone, he’ll hurt them. “Fucking hell, Kurloz, what- Shit!” It’s Mituna. He sinks to his knees, holding his head in some vague attempt to make it stop.

Hands are on him, gentle hands, and he can’t really see now but he knows it’s his bumblebee.  
“Hey. Come back to me, KZ.” He murmurs, and the pressure in his head … drops. Not gradually - all at once. He flinches again, the immediate change jarring and somehow still as terrifying as the pressure coming in was. He’s shaking, but he knows that he needs to gather the tendrils back into himself, regain his control. “What the fuck happened, KZ?” Mituna asks as he works on bringing himself back.  
_“I think I was dying.”_ He signs back shakily, barely coherent. Mituna makes a buzzing noise in his throat, obviously not wanting him to fuck around. Kurloz just buries his face in Mituna.  
“Okay, okay. Hold on.” He feels the warm electricity of psionics surround him, and he’s being moved suddenly. His brain is sluggish, and being moved really only makes him more panicky. “Stop thrashing, dumbass.” Comes the annoyed reply, and he’s being pressed into their pile, Mituna curling up next to him, pulling Kurloz in so his face is buried in the crook of his neck. He doesn’t do anything except breathe, regaining control of his mind, his body. 

It takes maybe an hour, total, but gradually the pain induced blindness recedes. He clings tighter to Mituna, tears forming in his eyes.  
“All better?” Kurloz nods a little against him, struggling not to cry. He wasn’t a fucking kid anymore. He shouldn’t cry because he’s unable to keep control under too much pain. “What triggered that?” Mituna asks, pulling away a little to watch his hands. Kurloz draws a blank on what to say.  
_“Just … A moment of lost control. That’s all it ever takes.”_ He signs. It was true, but not quite what happened. The voice in his head triggered it, of course. It doesn’t take a lot to make his mind meltdown, a stone in the water is enough to displace it and overflow.

_Do not defy the path. Or I will make you just another casualty._

He can’t help the shudder that goes through him.  
“That was a fucking bad one though.” Mituna murmurs, tucking him back in, careful of his horns. “I’m glad I was already coming over.” Kurloz nods against him. “It almost feels wrong to … to talk about the whole god tier thing, but I mean. We gotta, right?” Kurloz doesn’t reply. “KZ.” Nothing. “...I’m doing it.” He pulls away to sign, frowning.  
_“I want to be with you.”_ Mituna nods.  
“Yeah man obviously. I need you there.” He murmurs, looking him over. Kurloz gives him a little smile. “I think it’ll all be fine. Just a little shock and then I’ll nap for a minute, and be right back.”  
_“You’re gonna zap yourself?”_ Kurloz asks, frowning.  
“I mean. Yeah. I … don’t really wanna die from any other kind of trauma you know? And this way I can just … do it myself. Don’t have to ask you to slit my throat or nothin.” _“I … guess.”_ Mituna flashes him a grin.  
“I do it on accident all the time. Kind of curious what too much is like.”  
_“You’d have to give it everything you got. Don’t think I could stand it if you fucked yourself up and weren’t able to recover.”_  
“Well … if I fuck it up, how about you just finish it for me?” He asks. Kurloz frowns. “Just in case, Lozzie. Just for the one percent chance I don’t calculate it right.” Kurloz hesitates. _“Okay.”_ He signs slowly. Mituna kisses him gently over his stitches.  
“It’s gonna be fine.” He murmurs against his lips. 

“You’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whomp whomp. there it is. the plan as of this second is to have shit kick off for real next chapter. talkin dead trolls left n right.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mituna becomes a god and something clicks. Damara breaks for real and breaks some heads. Rufioh vomits a lot. Kurloz makes a decision.

Today was the day.

Kurloz couldn’t help but feel incredibly nervous, even though he had been assured over and over that nothing could go wrong. And maybe it wouldn’t go wrong. Maybe it would be easy as just a zap and after a few moments he would be back. Unharmed.

He plays with his diamond’s hair as he sleeps, not wanting to wake him - some sort of attempt to delay the inevitable. He knows that soon, too soon, he’ll wake up, and they’ll start the journey to his quest bed. Mituna said it was a walk, but it wasn’t halfway across the world. Should be able to make it there and back by morning.

Mituna stirs a little, mumbling in his sleep, and Kurloz smiles a little. He was the cutest little motherfucker there was, no doubt about it. Mituna presses against him, waking up slowly. Kurloz holds him close as he comes back to consciousness.  
“Mm.” Is all he says for the moment, wiggling around a little. He settles back down, red and blue eyes fixed on his. Kurloz tilts his head. “Hey…” He murmurs sleepily, and then yawns. Kurloz locks his jaw as he feels the overwhelming urge to do the same, and just breathes deeply.  
 _“Hey.”_ He signs briefly. Mituna smiles.  
“Today’s the day.”  
 _”Sure motherfuckin is.”_ He manages a small smile. Mituna pulls away from him, sitting up fully, and he fights the urge to pull him back and hold him tight, until he agrees to just stay here with him. Instead he just watches Mituna move around the room. He was a lanky motherfucker like himself, that’s for certain. His ribs stuck out just a little bit, and Kurloz saw a few bruises on his hips before he pulled his jumpsuit on.  
He felt a little guilty about those, for sure.

Mituna seems to notice his staring, and gives him a grin.  
“I know I’m irresistible but what’s with the staring, KZ?” Kurloz just shrugs a little, offering a small smile back. “You should uh. Shower.” He tilts his head. “Your thighs are. Well. Stained.” Kurloz glances down, then huffs out a laugh, pulling himself up and stretching. Mituna laughs a little too. “It’s a good look, though.”  
 _”You like your color all up on me, motherfucker?”_ Mituna sticks his tongue out at him.  
“So what if I do? You’re my fuckin’ moirail.” Kurloz presses a kiss to his cheek before ducking out of the room, heading into the bathroom.

He can hear Mituna moving around the nutritionblock as he showers. He’s taking his time cleaning up, not really wanting to go. He didn’t want to see his moirail die, or even be hurt. And … if he doesn’t hit himself hard enough … it’d be his job to finish it. That thought was horrifying. He rinses his hair out, and hears Mituna walk back upstairs and into his respiteblock, moving around in there. He hums quietly as he grabs the soap and a washcloth. The door opens, and he glances over to the door.  
“Hey, brought your clothes.” Mituna says, setting the small pile on the closed toilet. “And food.” And he sets a cup on the counter, easily recognizable as the despicable meal replacement drink. He frowns, and Mituna rolls his eyes. “You have to eat, Kurloz.”  
 _”I’m good.”_ Mituna makes an irritated churr in the back of his throat.  
“I will rip your stitches open and force feed you, and that’s a fuckin promise.” Kurloz gives him a look, which Mituna just returns. Eventually Kurloz looks away, rinsing himself off. “And you should close the shower curtain man, you’re getting water everywhere.”  
 _”Now you’re just nitpicking.”_ Kurloz signs back before cutting the water. He grabs his towel and dries his face.  
“I’m allowed to nitpick, we’re pale you chute fucker.” Kurloz wraps the towel around his waist and steps out onto the mat on the floor.  
 _”The shower curtain is just petty though. Motherfucker I know you’re nervous, just jam about that instead of acting like my godsdamned lusus. As much as I wanted one as a motherfuckin wriggler, the act gets pretty old now.”_ Mituna goes quiet, lips pressing together. Kurloz just snags the cup and drinks some, makes a face, and slides it back on the counter.  
“...Sorry.” Mituna says eventually. “You’re right. Though the eating thing is fucking justifiable okay?”  
 _”Man I get it, you know. It’s just hard to motivate enough to eat when it tastes like shit.”_  
“Well I hate to say it but. You had sole control over this aspect of your life, and now we’re just managing it.” Kurloz rolls his eyes.  
 _”I guess that’s fair enough.”_ He says, starting to dry himself off.

It doesn’t take long before he’s dry enough to pull his clothes on, hair still damp. Mituna is pacing in the hallway as he uncaps his paint, starting on the precise lines of his mask. As he paints, he can feel the little tremors going through the air, the electricity practically crackling with how tense Mituna is. He’s working on his eyes when he hears Mituna stop outside the ablutionblock door.  
“Did you have to do paint today?” He asks. Kurloz doesn’t respond. His hands are busy, afterall. “I don’t understand who you even do that for. There’s no church to impress anymore. And you know everybody except me and MN is mad uncomfortable with it.” Kurloz caps the paint, and puts it up. He washes his hands slowly, knowing Mituna is waiting on a response. His diamond gets snappy when he’s scared, lashing out without thinking. He tried not to let it get to him, but he felt particularly attacked when his religion was mocked. Which he knew.  
 _”I do it for me. Never did it for any other motherfucker.”_ He signs at last, facing Mituna. Mituna doesn’t have the presence of mind to look sorry, though, just rolls his eyes at him.  
“Alright whatever. Are you good? Can we head out already?” He asks, and there’s a soft buzz as he gets even more electric. He can see faint licks of red and blue energy going up between each set of his twinned horns, like jaecob’s ladders almost.  
 _”The real question is if you’re ready.”_ He signs, staring him down. They lock eyes for a moment, and Mituna raises his chin a little. He doesn’t back down.  
“I’m fine. Let’s just do this.” Kurloz nods once, and moves past him, leaving the block. He steps into his respiteblock, and shuts the door behind him. “KZ, what are you doing?” Mituna asks, irritation sparking in his voice. Kurloz doesn’t reply, obviously. What did he expect? Morse code? Instead he just opens a drawer, filled with what must look like junk to most other people. Pots of paint and old rags with rainbow splotches covering them were piled in here, with no sense of organization at all. Kurloz brushes stuff aside and grabs what he was looking for- a ornate knife. It was too delicate for anything but a willing target, and he’d never used it for much except ceremony.

He can still hear the sizzle it made as it cut through his tongue.

He stares at the blade for a minute, playing with the sharp edge, before throwing it in his sylladex. Mituna opens the door as he’s closing the drawer back up.  
“Dude.” Kurloz gives him a patient look. “What are you doing?”   
_”Just had to up and motherfucking grab something.”_ He signs. Mituna fidgets, a little.  
“So we’re good to uh. Head out?” Kurloz nods a little, and then tilts his head, watching him. “Dude, what?” Kurloz opens his arms, and motions for him to come to him. When he complies, Kurloz wraps his arms around him, pulling him in close. Mituna grabs onto him tightly, burying his face in his chest. Kurloz kisses the top of his head, just holding him. He’s electric with his fear for the immediate future, and it hurts a little to hold him but he would never let go, not when his diamond is so afraid. “I’ve been a little bit of a dick this morning huh?” He mumbles against him. Kurloz nods a little. “I’m sorry … I’m just so fuckin nervous.” He pulls back, and Kurloz lets go, so he can speak.  
 _”You don’t have to do this, you know.”_ He says. _”We could just stay here. Go back to bed or maybe just hang out.”_ Mituna looks away, still sort of fidgeting.  
“I still want to do it.” He says eventually. “Being nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want to go through with it.” He meets Kurloz’s eyes again, and he nods once.  
 _”Then let’s motherfuckin bounce, brother.”_ Mituna grins at him.

The trip to the bed is mostly quiet, most of the imps avoiding them. Mituna’s planet’s consorts occasionally wander over and nak at them, which Kurloz finds hilarious and Mituna finds annoying. When he picks one of them up to harass Mituna, it bites him, which just makes Mituna cackle.  
“Oh my god, did he fuck your hand up?” Kurloz shakes the wounded limb, giving the quickly retreating reptile a glare.  
 _”I’m good.”_ He says, inspecting the shallow bites. He was bleeding, but it was nothing. Mituna takes his hand and inspects it as well, but seems to deem it no big deal.  
“Don’t touch those things man they probably got diseases.” He says, still laughing a bit. Kurloz flips him off, making him cackle more.  
 _”Whatever. They’re still kinda cute though.”_  
“They’re fucking annoying.” Mituna nudges a reptile out of his way with his foot, and it naks at him unhappily. Kurloz wiggles his fingers just above its head as he passes by, laughing softly when it tries to bite him, jaws snapping at empty air. “Dude you’re seriously gonna lose a finger.” Kurloz shrugs, and things get quiet for a moment. “Hey.” Kurloz looks at him, raising an eyebrow. “We’re uh. Almost there.” He says, looking away and up. Kurloz follows his eye to some sort of platform. It’s high, high enough that he can’t really see anything on top of it.  
 _”On that fuckin thing?”_ He asks.  
“I don’t know where else you would expect it to be.” Mituna has stopped walking, now. Kurloz stands with him. “I’m gonna float us up.” That was all the warning he got before being hoisted into the air. He flinches a little as he’s suddenly weightless, moving up to the top of the monolith. It’s a feeling he’d never grown accustomed to, no matter how many times Mituna uses it to move him when he’s being mildly inconvenient.

The wind is harsh up in the air, but it doesn’t take long before his feet touch solid ground again. They stand on clean tile, on top of the monument. Four poles stand in each corner of the bed, rising impossibly higher. Kurloz looks at them, if only to avoid looking at the quest bed.

But it’s hard to find the poles interesting when his moirail is walking so self assured towards his suicide. Kurloz follows, his feet faltering a little. With each step towards it, he feels the pressure in his head grow, subtle at first, but as he stands by the slab, his head aches enough to wince at the feeling. He stands behind Mituna, who simply looks at the stone. It’s a dark, poisonous green, and it looks almost … too manufactured. It’s weathered away on the edges, crumbling a bit, but where it’s not broken away the stone is smooth and evenly colored. Like something you’d buy that was made to look old. Mituna takes a deep breath, and touches the rock, and Kurloz almost expects something to change, react to his presence or something, but it remains the same.

The wind is loud in his ears, and he watches silently as Mituna sits on the bed, facing him. He tilts his head a little, watching him. Mituna looks back at him, hands feeling the stone. He’s scared, Kurloz can see that plainly, but he says nothing. Kurloz holds a hand out to him, and he takes it, squeezing tightly. He doesn’t want to get up. He wants to push through this.  
“I’m gonna … lay down now, I guess.” He says, and his voice is almost whipped away by the wind. Kurloz nods, and pulls away. Slowly, Mituna lays down, and his dark hair falls away from his face, curling on the cold stone beneath him. He folds his arms over his chest, and closes his eyes. Kurloz watches him silently. Mituna’s hands tighten briefly, and relax, and they do that several times over what seems like hours. Kurloz barely breathes, teeth locked in anticipation. Nothing happens at all, though, even as time creeps by.

Mituna opens his eyes.

“Kurloz.” He starts, and then pauses. Kurloz takes his hand. “I … I can’t do it myself.”

His heart stops for a moment, he thinks. He just looks at him. Mituna sits up, pulling him in. Kurloz is almost kneeling in front of him now.  
“Can you just … help?” He asks, hesitantly. Kurloz definitely does not want to do this. He does not want to hurt him, never ever. “Please.” Kurloz’s eyes lock back on his diamond’s. “I trust you more than I trust myself to do this shit properly, man. I’m gonna be okay.”

He doesn’t want to.

But he will.

It only takes a moment for the dagger to find its place in his palm, the weight of it almost impossibly heavy. Mituna eyes it, breath quickening, and holds onto his free hand even tighter. Kurloz stands and pushes him back onto the stone, moving down with him. He just wants to be with him in this second, before everything changes. Mituna doesn’t say anything, just gives him a shaky smile. He returns it, hesitantly.

He pulls away slightly, and sits up on his knees, straddling Mituna’s waist. He can’t take his eyes off Mituna’s, even though that in itself hurts, knowing what he was about to do. He moves closer, and places the knife over Mituna’s neck, just resting it right over the major artery. He stays like that for a moment. Should they really do this? He tilts his head a little at him. A question.  
Mituna nods once. The answer.

He takes a deep breath.

It’s easy to bear down and cut deep, physically. His skin parts easily under the sharp blade, and cute deep enough to see inside him. Muscle and arteries exposed, all tinted gold. He can even see his punctured windpipe, and some of the blood that drips into it.

Mituna makes a choked sound, and Kurloz drops the knife, taking his hands instead. He watches the light in his eyes dim, but he struggles out a smile to him. It doesn’t make him feel much better. The gold blood spills so quickly, pooling on the green stone under his head. He chokes on it at the same time, drowning in it. The only solace is that it doesn’t take long for him to go lax underneath him. He can feel the moment he lets go, his energy dissipating in the wind as his hands no longer attempt to hold his tightly.

The wind howls in his ears as he stares down at Mituna’s body. He feels frozen, almost. The blood is horrifying and hypnotic at the same time, and it makes him a little sick. What did he do? Why would he do this? How could he?

He was supposed to come back though. He _had_ to come back. Kurloz finds it in himself to move, kneeling beside the bed and holding his unresponsive hand. It’s almost like he’s sleeping. As a minute passes, and then two, he gets more and more nervous, holding his hand tighter. What was supposed to even happen?

A soft humming noise becomes apparent through the wind, making his ears perk up. He looks up, and sees the pillars around the bed have lit with bright white light. He slowly pulls away from him, not wanting to interrupt the process somehow. The white light grows brighter and brighter, until it hurts to look at. He looks down at Mituna instead, and finds him glowing a soft green. He’s still not moving, but as the green glow gets brighter, his body starts to … rise. Kurloz backs away as Mituna goes up in the air, arms and legs limp, as if someone had picked him up around just his middle. The wind is impossibly louder, the humming noise more intense.

The golden blood that had spilled from him starts to … recede, it seems. He can’t see his face now, but his watches as his blood disappears from his clothes and hair, leaving nothing behind. The glow is getting brighter, and brighter, and he has to look away. It’s terrifying to be right at the source of what’s loud and bright enough to be an atomic bomb, and it’s only getting brighter, and louder, and the pressure in his head is multiplying. He shouldn’t have let him go god tier. He should have stopped this.

_You are not a very obedient puppet, are you?_

He shudders at the voice, cold and angry. It sears through his brain, and he drops to his knees, unable to take all of the input. The pain gets worse, and suddenly something sort of … pops in is head, and he feels himself collapsing. He has just enough time to wonder what happened before he blacks out.

When he wakes up, the world is a little blurry. His eyes hurt, but he pries them open anyway. It takes a few moments to blink and bring things back to clarity, but after a moment, he realizes Mituna is holding him. He stirs a little, and Mituna makes a soft noise.  
“Hey man, I dunno if you should be movin too much.” Mituna says, petting his hair. Nevertheless, he persists, dragging himself up to see Mituna completely. He blinks once, and frowns. He’s exactly the same. Mituna tilts his head, giving him a smile. “It worked, dude. That shit was fucking crazy.”  
 _”What … why do you look the same still?”_ Mituna shrugs a little, and closes his eyes for a moment. His clothing shifts, blurs a little, and suddenly he’s in something that resembles pajamas almost. It makes him grin widely. The most notable thing was the wings sprouting from his back, huge and bright yellow. They’re beautiful in all honesty.  
“These were a surprise. Kinda cool, but you know the overall look ain’t my thing, you dig? Besides, I can fly without them.” His clothing does the same sort of shift, and he’s back to his jumpsuit. It’s confusing, what exactly is happening, but Kurloz is used to not understanding anything about this fucking game. “I think we should get back to my hive … honestly I’m feeling more awake than ever but whatever the fuck happened while I was out seemed to fuck you up, man.” Kurloz nods a little.  
 _”There was kind of … a lot happening at the same time.”_  
“I can imagine. Come on, I’ll carry you.” He goes weightless, and Mituna grins a little as he flips him off. “What?” He asks, raising him higher. “Want me to drop you?” He bounces him a little.  
 _”Don’t drop me, asshole!”_ Mituna cackles, and rises with him. Slowly the two of them lower to the ground, and Mituna sets him on his feet. _”You’re so cocky, you know.”_ Kurloz signs to him, smiling.  
“Oh you know you love it, baby.” Mituna sticks his split tongue out at him.

The walk back is mostly uneventful, except when a few imps ventured too close. They were easy enough to dispatch, one getting fried by Mituna, the other finding himself on the receiving end of a spiked club. They work well together, they always have, and it’s comforting to fall into what’s routine after such a huge event. It was almost like nothing even happened, like he didn’t draw a blade over his throat and watch him as he bled out, until he became unto a god. Mituna seems … fine, upbeat even, which threw him off. He had a million questions about how it felt, what he saw if anything. But Mituna seems disinclined to talk at the moment, seemingly in his own head.

When they get back to the hive, the night is surprisingly … normal. It’s pretty late, almost dawn, but they sit together and just talk about nothing. Kurloz doesn’t know what he expected … just not this. Mituna is being more touchy feely than usual - he’s normally the one to initiate a cuddle session. But Mituna is leaning against him, holding his arm, taking in his presence. It’s nice, sweet, and he can almost forget the gold blood dripping down his neck and onto green stone.

The pressure is back.

He winces a little, and Mituna makes a soft noise, trying to soothe him.

_It is time._

He stirs a little, tapping Mituna to make him look.  
 _”I … should head back to mine.”_ Mituna frowns.  
“I think you need to stay here.” He tilts his head.  
 _”What do you mean, motherfucker?”_ He shrugs.  
“What I said. Stay here.” The pressure is increasing.  
 _”I … Have to.”_ Mituna’s brows furrow, but he lets go as Kurloz stands.  
“That’s a bad idea.” Mituna looks so serious, and he doesn’t understand why.  
 _”I just need a little time alone, brother. Gotta think some shit over.”_ Mituna slowly sits back on the couch.  
“I’m not going to stop you, I guess.” He murmurs. He seems to be mulling something over. It puts him on edge.  
 _”Is something the matter?”_ He asks. Mituna frowns.  
“Something big is about to happen.” Is all he comments. “And I feel like you should just stay.” The pressure is getting more intense.

_Leave. Now._

He shivers.  
 _”I’ll be fine bumblebee._ He gives him a thumbs up, but Mituna does not seem convinced.  
“Fine, just … go. I have a wicked big headache coming on.” He murmurs, rubbing his temples.  
 _”I got some weed if you want, man.”_ He shakes his head.  
“No. I’m fine. Go.” Kurloz hesitates.

_I SAID NOW._

He leaves.

He doesn’t know where he’s headed, but he’s going there.  
He walks without thinking about where, exactly, he was going to find himself. He supposes he’ll find out when he gets there. He hops through the transportalizer a few times, and steps out into semi-familiar territory.

Meenah’s land.

He stands there for a moment, wondering where he was supposed to go from here. It doesn’t take long for him to hear an infuriated scream in the distance. He follows the noises of chaos.

He sees them.

Meenah and Damara, fighting.

The two are facing each other, snarling. Meenah’s trident is out, and Damara is holding her chopsticks in her hands, hair flowing free behind her. The metal of them glints dangerously in the midday light. Damara is glowing a dark red, the energy crackling around her. As he watches, Meenah is lifted into the air, seemingly by the throat. She struggles against her, making garbled noises, obviously desperate for air. Her hands go up to her neck, trying to pry away a force that was intangible.  
“I tell you, leave me alone! But no! Have to push! Have to make me feel like shit! All in name of what? What you want?” Damara screams at her. Rust tears drip down her face, her pain easy to see. Meenah gasps something inaudible, and Damara drops her. She collapses on the ground. “Just leave me alone! That all I want!” Meenah uses her trident to pull herself up, leaning heavily on it. As he watches, she starts to pull away. She was retreating.

_No. The girl stays._

Kurloz breaks into her head easily, freezing her in place. She goes unnaturally still, but Damara doesn’t seem to notice, too focused on crying, trying desperately to clear her tears. She wipesher face, shuddery, angry sobs escaping her. He doesn’t know how to rig this so it goes the way it needs to, and he just kind of … has Meenah throw her trident at Damara. He wants her to miss, but … calculating that turns out to be pretty hard.

The trident lodges in her shoulder. Damara shrieks in pain, and he lets Meenah go. She looks horrified at herself, and starts to bolt. Damara isn’t having that. Meenah is yanked up into the air, and then thrown back into the dirt. He hears the crunch from his position, a fair distance away. Damara screams at her, a sound full of hurt that rips his pusher out of his chest.

He did this, didn’t he.

This is what had to happen though. It wasn’t his fault.

Damara isn’t done with her. Meenah is raised into the air again, and he sees her leg and arm mangled pretty bad. Damara throws her into the distance, grabbing the fallen trident before stalking after her with murderous intent. Kurloz doesn’t do much but watch as Damara takes all of her frustration out on the fuschia. She stands over Meenah, still sobbing, and brings her trident down into her throat, and then brings her foot down over her face. Kurloz winces, and looks away.

Meenah’s pretty bad off by the time Damara notices him, breathing hard and covered in royal blood. Her eyes narrow at him, and points a finger towards him. He has just enough time to realize what she was doing before he’s lifted into the air by his throat. He chokes a little, surprised, and she stalks towards him.  
“You. Why you here, clown? What you do?” She asks, her West Beforan worse than normal. He’s dropped onto the floor with no regard with how he falls. He rolls though, trying not to snap a limb. He’s up in a flash, avoiding a blow from Damara. “Huh? You in head?” She demands, poking her thin blade at him. He tilts his head a little.  
 _”Just kept her still for you, rust sister._ Her eyes narrow. She doesn’t believe him, and of course it wasn’t quite true. But it was true enough.  
“I done with you all. Fuck this.” She says. “All of you die. Including you. Never care for you, you never care for me.” She’s crying again, sadness wracking her small form. “Why? What I do? Make everyone hate me? No one even … no one know me. I am nice!” She insists, and then looks at Meenah. “Was nice. Fuck this. Fuck this!” A reddish glow seems to emanate from her, and he takes a step back. “I ruin you all. Pony and Fish down. Fuck your session. No one win now.” The glow gets brighter, and then there’s a flash, and the image of a gear sears into his eyes, making him flinch and look away.

And she was gone.

He stands there silently, looking at Meenah’s discarded body. It’s shattered, broken and bleeding, and he can’t help but to feel … immense sadness. He liked Damara. He didn’t want this. He didn’t _want_ this.

_It doesn’t matter what you **wanted**._

He shivers, feeling the awful ache that comes before tears.

_Don’t you know that you are **mine**? You will continue to do what I need._

He straightens up, blinking a few times, and takes a shallow breath. He looks at Meenah, and walks over to her. She’s totally relaxed, her face no longer holding all the bravado, the rage she barely concealed, all her dissatisfaction for a life that held her to a higher standard. She looks nice. She has a kind face, when she isn’t fronting. He kneels next to her, her eyes still wide open and glassy. Kurloz frowns a little, and closes her eyes gently. He didn’t like Meenah. But it felt … wrong to leave her like this. He gently takes her arm, moving it back into place. She was dead, definitely, and it was lucky she couldn’t feel her bones being snapped back where they belong. Slowly he fixes her again, putting her back together, folding her arms over her chest. He stands.

She could be sleeping. Covered in blood, yes, but … Sleeping.

He frowns, looks away from her body. Her land is silent, no denizens providing ambient noise, no imps around. He’s covered in her blood now, and he doesn’t exactly … mind. He actually likes it in a way he would rather not analyze.

He walks away from her, leaving her in the open. Someone would come for her eventually. He had already been more than generous with his time. No, now he had to see Horuss’s body. Sounded like he was dead, or close to it. At least he could get the full scope of the damage.

He doesn’t remember which stops to take to Horuss’s from Meenah’s, and it takes him a few minutes to get it right. Stepping onto the planet is strange, if only because of how little he’s been there. The world is quiet here, also, but there isn’t any visible damage. He looks around cautiously, seeking out anything living nearby. All he finds is a pack of enemies a ways off, which are moving away from the house. He sighs, and walks towards the house.

The door is open already, and upon closer examination, it had been forced open. The lock is broken. He shuts the door behind him, and pads into the hive. The front entry is empty, though it’s trashed. Horuss was not neat with his projects, but usually had the mind to not leave things on the floor. Mechanical parts were everywhere, a table overturned on the floor and broken. He follows the trail of destruction into Horuss’s workshop, where there is a truly bloody scene waiting for him. He stops in the doorway, just staring at the carnage.

Horuss is up against a wall, pinned. And pinned he truly is. Metal pieces stick out of his body, nailing him securely to the wall. His face is locked up in pain, eyes wide open under his goggles. Blue blood pools under him, drips down his clothes, stains the wall behind him. A spray of blood reached a great distance from where a slice of metal had apparently cut into his carotid.

Kurloz walks towards the scene carefully, eyes locked on the body. It’s fascinating, how the body acts after death, how it still oozes blood. He stops in front of him, close enough to touch now. He carefully takes his goggles off, revealing his whole face. It’s untouched, just his body mangled, which provides an odd sort of juxtaposition. He closes his eyes, too. It’s comforting, somehow, for them to look somewhat at peace. He drops the goggles on the ground. It would be a lot of work to remove these pieces of metal, but he knew no one else would do it. 

There’s a scrape of boots against the floor behind him, and he turns quickly. He hadn’t noticed anyone entering and he cursed himself for getting distracted. Luckily, it’s no one of any threat. Rufioh stands in the doorway, eyes wide.  
“I…” He says, looking horrified. Kurloz looks back at the body. It was horrific, he couldn’t blame him. For a moment, he considered the feeling of walking in on Meulin, dead, knowing her last moments were spent in agony.

Some things were too horrifying to consider.

He takes hold of a particularly long pole in his midsection, and pulls. It’s embedded deep in the wall, and takes a good amount of effort to remove. It comes out slowly, blood oozing from the wound as the bloody piece of metal is extracted. He hears a dry heaving noise behind him, which he assumes is Rufioh being sick. He resists the urge to roll his eyes. As shallow as his emotions were, he supposed this was his matesprit.  
“What … dude … what the fuck are you doing? Who did this?” Rufioh asks, after he’s done retching for the moment. He drops the metal, which lands with a loud clang. Kurloz turns towards him, looking him up and down. He isn’t sure how he expects an answer. “Oh…” Rufioh seems to realize what the barrier is. “You didn’t … did you?” He asks, stepping back once, looking nervous. He shakes his head, and turns back to the body. Another pole, this one a little more shallow in the drywall, but it had gone through his lower arm, shattering the bone. He feels the scrape of the bone against metal as it’s removed, and joins the other piece on the floor. Less blood this time, probably didn’t hit a major artery. He feels Rufioh’s reluctant presence next to him, and he glances at him. “Do you know who did this?” He asks shakily, putting a hand on Horuss’s face gently. Kurloz looks at him for a long moment. Was this idiot serious? Who else did he think could have possibly done it? Rufioh just looks confused at him. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, and drags his pointer finger through some of the blue blood that was everywhere, and grabs his arm. Rufioh flinches back, but he just writes with it.

_**DAMARA** _

Rufioh stares at her name on his arm silently, and he just ignores the bronze blood having an emotional crisis. He was gonna get this body off this wall sometime this sweep, even though Rufioh was almost certainly too much of a wriggler to help remove his matesprit from the wall.

The smaller pieces of metal are inconsequential, he finds, removing a few before realizing they did nothing to pin him in his position. He left them for whoever else might care enough to remove them. Instead he grasps another bar of metal, something that looks to almost be a strut for some sort of vehicle. He wasn’t sure, and didn’t really care. This one is embedded firmly into his pusher, and he pauses for a moment, tugging lightly to get a feel of the resistance he faces. It’s in there for sure.  
“Wait, don’t-” Rufioh starts, but he pulls. It comes out with a sloppy sort of noise that he honestly found funny. The wound is more bloody than others, and practically gushes blood out onto the floor with a splat. The metal joins the rest on the floor, the copious blood on it splattering on impact, showering the two of them a bit. The wound is so gaping he can see inside of him, the crushed bone of his ribs and his destroyed pusher. Neat.

Next to him, Rufioh gags wetly before vomiting all over the floor, and Kurloz spares him a glance, eyebrow raised. He wasn’t good at aiming it seemed, Rufioh’s vomit coating his own shoes quite liberally, splattering and mixing with the pools of blue on the floor. Like a particularly gross abstract painting. Rufioh gags again, holding a hand to his mouth to suppress another torrent of sickness, and it doesn’t work at all, instead coating his hand this time. Kurloz laughs. He can’t help it, was he just supposed to watch a motherfucker vomit all over himself over a little gore and keep all stoic like?

Rufioh gives him a dark look.  
“Bro can you like … not be a creepy piece of shit for ten minutes?” He asks sharply. His voice is more aggressive than he’s ever heard it be, rough from the assault of stomach acid on his throat. He tilts his head. Interesting. He watches Rufioh watch him for a moment, unsure how he expects him to respond to that. He was only taking his quad down, since he was too much of a bitch to. He tilts his head towards the body, and Rufioh’s eyes follow his direction, then look back to him. Kurloz mimes taking the body down, setting it gently on the ground. Then he grabs another pole, and tugs on it gently. “...Oh.” Is all Rufioh says. He doesn’t offer to help, which he can’t say was surprising. Kurloz grasps the pole he took more firmly, and pulls it out fairly easily. This one only punctured his gut, nothing to pull it through harder than his digestive tract. Only a few poles remain that appear to be strategically placed to keep him on the wall. Horuss’s body is beginning to slump down the wall, leaving bloody blue tracks.

Rufioh is vomiting again.

He rolls his eyes. If he was just going to throw up everywhere, he should leave. Kurloz takes the pole in his hand, and uses it to push Rufioh away from him. Rufioh staggers and almost falls, backing away quickly to avoid getting any of the indigo on him.  
“Shit! Don’t, dude! What the fuck!” He swears, wings fluttering nervously, lifting him up into the air a few inches. Kurloz stares at him, then points to the vomit on the floor. “You gotta be kidding me. This shit isn’t making you sick as fuck?” He shrugs, tosses the pole away, and turns away from him. The poles embedded in his kneecaps and the one embedded into his right side are the only things between him and fucking leaving already. The ones in his knees aren’t too deep, a quick tug takes them out. The one in his hip is different. The biggest shard of metal by far, with his body nearly folding around it, the last pillar supporting his weight. He takes the shard carefully, minding the sharp edges. It didn’t matter much once he started to pull, the edges cut into his palms anyway. Purple smears on the sides of the heavy piece as he slowly pulls it out. There’s an audible scrape as it passes through his shattered hipbone, and it comes out with a wet noise. The body falls to the floor, crumpling in on itself, and Kurloz tosses the metal aside.

He looks around the room for a moment, trying to find a suitable location to lay him out. He considers the options briefly before clearing one of Horuss’s work tables in one quick move. The pieces all crash to the floor loudly, making Rufioh wince. He ignores him and picks up the body, moving him onto the table. He gently arranges him, folding his arms over his chest, and then steps back, looking him over.

He hears footsteps approaching him, and his ears perk up in Rufioh’s direction as he comes to a stop beside him. He doesn’t face him, just looks down at the broken body in front of them.  
“He looks so … small, like this.” Rufioh says softly, voice wavering a little. Kurloz gives him a sideways look. Bronze tears are dripping slowly from his face. Unimpeded, they trail down and gather under his chin. Kurloz looks away. He wasn’t exactly a comforting troll, no matter if he tried or not. Besides, the language barrier was impossible to clamber over between the two of them. So they just stand there.

After a moment Rufioh lets out a shuddering sob, and leans against him. He jumps a little, looking down at him with surprise. Rufioh doesn’t hold onto him or anything, just leans against him, as if he needed help staying up.  
“This is all my fault, isn’t it?” He asks, voice wobbly. Kurloz tilts his head. “I know you can’t answer me, man, but it is. Damara was never even like this … shit, she was such a nice person before this game. You don’t even know.” He wipes his tears away angrily. “And I don’t even know why … why I cheated on her. It was just. Easier, y’know?” He says, like Kurloz cares about his justifications. “She was so sweet and quiet and … I never wanted to hurt her. I was like her whole world, you know? I was the reason why she ever left East Beforus. But Horuss, you know, he was so smart and I … I wasn’t into Damara anymore. I was done being some kinda fake leader of the kids, I was ready to like, be a real troll and grow up. So I just. Was with him more and more often?” He pulls away a little, but Kurloz doesn’t really react. He’d sit through this sob story but he wasn’t his fucking moirail. “You’re a good listener.” Rufioh says, wiping away a few tears. He tilts his head and smiles, tapping his stitches. He didn’t exactly have any input. Rufioh laughs harshly, the way you do after crying and trying to move past it. “Mituna must be pretty lucky.” He raises an eyebrow. Rufioh clears his throat, and looks nervous. “Uh, sorry man. You know. I was just sayin’ like … I guess I get the appeal of jamming with you?” He offers. Kurloz laughs through his nose and looks away, towards the door. He glances back at Horuss, and dips his finger in a pool of his blood again. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Rufioh make a face. “Why you gotta do that, man?” He shrugs, writing something on the smooth surface of the table.

_**KISS HIM LIKE YOU MEAN IT.** _

He leaves him to puzzle over that, knowing he’d figure it out eventually. His boots crunch softly on shards of metal and broken glass as he takes his leave. He’s covered in blood, fuschia and blue, as well as his own purple, oozing from the rather deep cuts on his hands. He inspects his wounds absently, going through the transportalizers. He loses track of that he was doing, and has to make a few hops back to get to his hive. He sighs deeply. Finally. He could wash his hands of this shit, literally and figuratively. He did what he was supposed to, and all he had to do now is wait to die.

_I told you the psionic would be a problem. This is the consequence of not listening._

Kurloz flinches, the wave of pain catching him off guard. He breathes for a second, and closes his eyes, channeling his energy towards talking back inside his own mind.

_**I DON’T UNDERSTAND.** _

He grits back. The internal conversation might strike him as funny if it didn’t hurt so godsdamned much. The humor of the situation diminishes as a cold laugh starts to echo in his head. It makes his ears ring, and he grits his teeth together, rubbing his left temple.

_In the future, it would benefit you to take the upper hand when you have it._

And the pressure is gone again.

Slowly, he takes his hands away from his face, straightening up. Even with the bright colors and flags on his planet waving in the wind, silence reigns. He didn’t understand what the fuck that meant.

His hair tries to stand on end as he feels electricity in the air.   
He turns, frowning, and finds himself face to face with his moirail. He tilts his head.  
 _”What’s up?”_ He asks, casual as one can be covered in blood. Mituna feels so sad, so … disappointed.  
“What did you do?” He asks softly, taking a step forward. He steps back reflexively.  
 _”Damara killed Meenah and Horuss. Just tried to clean up the motherfucking mess.”_ Mituna stares at him, silently. He raises an eyebrow.  
“You’re a pretty good liar when you want to be.” He says, finally. “I knew that. Just thought I could see through it. Funny how you can date someone for years and find out they’re a whole different person.” Kurloz closes his eyes for a moment. Ah. When he opens them again, his eyes are alight with a soft lavender.  
 ** _< I DON’T THINK YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT.>_** Mituna laughs, bitterly.  
“Why did you do that to Damara? I thought you liked her. Instead … you pushed her till she broke, with Meenah? And for what?” He shakes his head. “You were the cause of our deaths, then. All along. Why?” Kurloz shivers a little. The air is freezing here even for him.  
 ** _< I HAD TO. THERE WAS NO OTHER CHOICE.>_**  
“There’s always a choice.” Mituna says softly. “You have to fix this.” The pressure is back, and he flinches. Mituna watches him, narrowing his eyes.

_Kill him. Now._

He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. No. No. He could fix this. Everything could be fine.  
 ** _< IF I DON’T DO WHAT HE WANTS. HE’LL KILL ME.>_** Mituna’s eyes widen a little.  
“Who will?” He asks. “Kurloz, who is making you do this? I would never let him hurt you, we can still fix all of this.” 

_How optimistic. End this now, or I will end you._

Kurloz grits his teeth, and his flashing purple eyes meet blue and red.  
 ** _< BUMBLEBEE YOU HAVE TO BACK DOWN ON THIS.>_** Mituna looks sad.  
“So that’s how it is, is it?” Kurloz nods once. “What, you want me to ignore the fact that you’re going to ruin us?” He tilts his head a little. “That’s not gonna fucking happen. Whatever reasons you have … it isn’t enough to justify destroying everything.”  
 ** _< IT’S GOING TO BE OKAY, IN THE LONG RUN. THIS HAD TO HAPPEN.>_** Mituna just closes his eyes.  
“So what now? I don’t accept that, Kurloz. So what happens now?” He frowns, looks away for a moment.  
 ** _< GUESS I’LL JUST HAVE TO MOTHERFUCKIN MAKE YOU FORGET ABOUT IT. YOU NEVER NEEDED TO KNOW.>_** Mituna laughs bitterly.  
“I’d like to see you try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoo!!!!! oh fuck boi!!!! told yall this chapter was gonna have a lot of death! anyway. sorry for the lil cliffhanger but im sure yall can handle it while i struggle to figure out how to write CHAPTER 8. this is a pretty big accomplishment for me, someone who barely manages to write second chapters or follow ups. thanks for reading everybody!!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ned's declassified school survival guide never covered the ethical dilemma of breaking into ur bf's mind to wipe his memory :oi petition for them to cover the REAL issues

The first time he met Mituna, it was like waking up.

They were only two sweeps, but the second they locked eyes, they knew. It was meant to be for them, as cheesy as it sounds. Mituna never believed in fate, destiny, or the Gods, but Kurloz was sure that it was all of the above. How else would there be someone’s hand who fit so perfectly in his, someone who understood his pain and his fears of not being good enough. Someone who knew how alone he felt. They just worked.

Mituna was always curious. He never could say _why_ he was exploring the holy grounds that day, the place Kurloz considered the only thing close to home. Kurloz himself was so young he hadn’t even started painting his face yet, hadn’t fully grasped the scope of his own potential.

Just a kid. 

Two kids, who weren’t where they were supposed to be. 

They had locked eyes at opposite ends of the dark hallway, and froze, like squeakbeasts caught in a light. They both paused for a moment, and then Kurloz smiled and waved.

He was always eager to make friends as a wiggler. He was excited to see someone his age, most of the trolls that he knew were faceless, nameless adults passing through. The other wigglers thought he was off, weird for always hanging around at the chapel and doing the cleaning up for the priest. He was just lonely, and he’d take whatever he could get.

He gave a quick look around before running over to the other. Mituna was startled, but Kurloz wasn’t to be deterred from a potential friend.  
“Hi!” He chirped at the other, making Mituna smile a little. “I’m Kurloz. What’s your name?”  
“Ummm … Mituna.” He says softly, glancing around. “I’m not really … supposed to be here.” He grinned widely at the soft lisp to his voice, finding it intriguing.  
“Me either.” He whispered, conspiratorially. “That’s okay though. None of the grown ups are around right now! Or at least they weren’t when I checked!” Mituna grins.  
“Are you here a lot?” He nods.  
“Yeah … more often than I’m at my hive!”  
“Wow, your lusus is so cool. Mine almost never lets me out of the hive!” He says. Kurloz tilts his head a little. He wonders what that might be like.  
“I don’t have a lusus.” He says. Mituna’s eyes go wide.  
“That’s crazy!” Kurloz shrugs.  
“The grown ups said he couldn’t deal with me, so he left.” Mituna frowns.  
“That’s dumb! Lususes are supposed to care no matter what!” Kurloz shrugs again. He didn’t have the energy to feel indignant about it now. It was simply a part of life. Mituna smiles at him. “I haven’t met a lotta purples before. My friend Kankri says you guys are scary, but you’re not scary at all!” He giggles. Kurloz studies him, and he holds his hand out to him. “Wanna go outside and play?”  
“Okay!”

And the rest was history.

Kurloz goes weightless as he’s thrown back a ways. He has enough balance to somersault backwards and get to his feet. He lands kind of hard, has to brace himself with his hand to stay standing, and he glares up at Mituna, eyes flashing a dangerous lavender.  
“Lets see you get into my head in the middle of getting your ass kicked.” Mituna snarls, and he barely dodges a psionic blast. He rolls, and gets up as quick as he could. Gods damn him, he still didn’t want to hurt him. This was such bullshit.  
 _ **< THIS WILL BE A LOT EASIER AND LESS PAINLESS IF YOU JUST RELAX.>**_ He says, waving a hand dismissively at him. Mituna growls, and a responding growl bubbles from his throat automatically. The air feels heavy with his voodoo, and the crackle buzz of Mituna’s psionics makes it feel like fighting in the middle of a thundercloud.  
“Same for you, asshole.” Mituna spits, and a blast catches him in the shoulder. He flinches, moving out of the way. A risked glance tells him a chunk of his shoulder was just burned away. Lovely.  
 _ **< IF YOU WANNA PLAY MIND TRICKS, BUMBLEBEE, WE CAN PLAY MIND TRICKS.>**_ His eyes glow brighter as he tries to work his way into his head. It was harder than anticipated, and he grits his teeth when he has to hit his psychic defense like an oak door with a battering ram. Mituna screams, and he flinches in response, Mituna’s pain affecting him worse than his own. But he stays in there, carving his way in, sifting through his head. Mituna’s barely staying up, knees shaking, yellow tears dripping down his face.  
“Get OUT OF MY HEAD!” He screams, and Kurloz loses focus in favor of shifting out of the way of Mituna’s next attack. It’s uncoordinated, and it doesn’t take much to avoid the energy. “Fucker!” He hisses, and Kurloz is weightless again, the force yanking him up by his leg.  
 _ **< NOW WHY DO YOU HAVE TO GO AND DO SHIT LIKE THIS?>**_ He manages as he’s dropped from a fair height. 

A less successful roll this time.

He panics at the drop, and holds out an arm to break his fall, not thinking it through. There’s a sickening crunch, and his vision goes fuzzy around the edges for a second. He doesn’t dare to look.

The first time he saw Mituna’s psionics, it was incredible to him. Always has been, honestly, though he took them more in stride as time went on.

But at three sweeps it was amazing, even though he wasn’t by any means powerful yet. Oh, he could spark and move things, heavy things even, but he couldn’t inflict much damage on purpose. His random spurts of energy were uncontrolled at that point, and hurt him more than anyone else.

The red and blue energy was mesmerizing though, and Mituna had giggled when he called it a miracle.  
“No, it’s PSIONICS, dummy!” He says. Kurloz frowns, a little hurt, and Mituna straightens up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He covers quickly. “Jus’ a joke, promise.”  
“It’s okay.” He mumbles. “I’ve just never seen that before.” He says after a moment. Mituna tilts his head.  
“Other people have other colors, but psionics are pretty special! That’s what my lusus told me!” Kurloz grins.  
“That’s cool! You’re kind of like a superhero!” Mituna giggles.  
“I’m not that good yet. I will be one day, though! I have to practice a lot.”

Mituna doesn’t let up on the assault now that he’s on the ground of course. It would be stupid to not take advantage of when your opponent is down. He just wishes, as he rolls out of the way of another blast, that he could have two seconds to recover.

He avoids another blast, and Mituna laughs at him.  
“Can’t do shit when you’re dancing like an idiot to avoid me, can you?” Kurloz grits his teeth. This would be so much better if Mituna didn’t taunt him like he was just another game enemy. Even though he still loves Mituna, the goading gets to him. His claws twitch, wanting to grab and rip. But he could push past that instinct. Had to push past that instinct. He wasn’t going to hurt him physically. Just snip today out of his mind, that’s all. His eyes flash brightly as he throws another psychic wave. Years of blocking himself off from Kurloz’s dreams and bad days, when he couldn’t keep from it all spilling out of him, has certainly given him a fair immunity.

Mituna screams again, and he feels a mental push back. He raises an eyebrow.  
 _ **< HOW LONG HAS A MOTHERFUCKER BEEN ABLE TO DO THAT NOW?>**_ Mituna grins, teeth gritted.  
“Everyone always said you’d turn on me. Everyone knows you voodoo freaks are dangerous.” Kurloz’s lip curls. He hates that, being called a freak. Mituna knew that, he’d said as much many a time. He was doing his usual posturing bullshit, which pissed him off. He had too much ammo against him, knew exactly what to say to make it hurt. “Didn’t take long to get the hang of it. Aranea’s always willing to lend a hand.”  
 _ **< SORRY TO INFORM YOU, BUT ARANEA AIN’T EXACTLY ON MY LEVEL.>**_ He waves his hand dissmissively and backs off completely for a moment. Mituna’s visibly off balance at this, and he tilts his head, and hits again. Mituna staggers back a little as he breaks through.

The first time Mituna had seen his voodoos, it was an accident. Mituna had taken to visiting him at the chapel whenever he could, and Kurloz loved seeing him. It was so much more fun to play with him than any of the other wigglers that came to church.

He had been by himself as usual when an older wiggler stomped up to him, a few friends trailing behind her. He wasn’t doing anything, just drawing on the pavement with chalk. She had deemed it an ideal time to bother him though. It only took a few names to get him all puffed up and upset, not wanting to cry in front of the cool kids. But when she pushed him over, he lashed out. He didn’t have much control over his voodoos at that point, they just sort of wreaked havoc when he got too upset. The priest had been excited, since it was uncommon to even show in wigglers so young.

To him it was just a problem.

He stood over the group as they screamed and cried, seeing their worst nightmares come to life around them, and he couldn’t help but grin, eyes flashing brilliantly.

That was when he saw Mituna, wide eyed and watching the scene play out. He calmed down, and the fear in the air dropped. The kids all got out of there as fast as they could, and then it was just the two of them.

“No, no, NO! FUCK OFF!” Mituna screams, electricity crackling around him. Kurloz tenses up as he prepares for another throw, maybe a blast. The attack doesn’t come physically though, no. His view of the swirling thoughts in Mituna’s head becomes blurred with red and blue, and he realizes he’s trying to shake the grasp on his mind in a very literal way.  
 _ **< DON’T DO THAT. SHIT WILL MELT YOUR PAN.>**_ Mituna shudders, and he feels his pain through him. _**< IT’LL BE OVER SOON.>**_ It takes a second to find his memories, what with the psionics buzzing around in there. When he does, they’re a swirling, incoherent mess due to his panic. He frowns.  
“STOP IT!” Mituna screams, his fear palpable. He digs deeper. He can’t tell what’s what, and it hurts so fucking bad to be in there while he’s electric inside like this. He grabs at what he’s … pretty sure is around this week. The memories shrivel up up under his grasp, blackening and disappearing.

And then there’s a cracking noise. He focuses on the real world, where Mituna is brighter than ever. The crack happens again, and his eyes meet Mituna’s before a wave of energy bursts out of him, and knocks him on his ass. It hurts, and it yanks him out of his pan. He lays there for a second, processing the pain. He’s too out of it to even realize he’s blacking out before he does so, slipping into the bliss of unconsciousness.

.  
.  
.

Someone is crying.

He stirs, eyes unwilling to open, pain radiating from every part of his body. He groans softly, rolling over.

Oops.

He whines as he tries to use his broken arm to get up, collapsing back on the ground. He grits his teeth and holds his arm to him, and instead forces his eyes open.

A clear night sky sprawls above him, the starless expanse that has grown familiar. He blinks a few times, assessing his own damage. His arm is broken, and now that he’s had a chance to actually look it looks rather bad. Nothing sticks through his skin, thank the Gods, but his flesh tents grotesquely around where the bone is broken and has shifted upward. He holds it gingerly as he inspects his opposite shoulder. The burn doesn’t seem … too bad. Other than that he just aches. Slowly, he sits up, observing the scene. Ten feet away is Mituna, also on the ground. Latula is kneeling next to him, crying softly, while Porrim and Kankri stand by. He stands carefully, using his good arm, and makes his way over. Porrim’s eyes land on him, looking him over.  
“Kurloz. You look terrible.” She says. He raises an eyebrow. “Why are you covered in blood?” He shrugs. Not like he could communicate with her. Instead, he kneels next to Mituna, placing a hand on his forehead. He’s warm to his touch, like always, but he’s focused on something deeper. His eyes light up, and Latula visibly flinches away. He looks at her with disinterest, and she backs off. His attention moves back to his diamond, gently working his way in. He frowns. The soft red and blue hum that was always present … was no longer there. He goes deeper. Mituna is smart, everything in his mind reflected that. Always buzzing with activity, but it was bright. Alive. He’s still living, he can feel that, but his light is just gone. The activity has not stopped, but his dreams feel stuttery and incomprehensible. He pulls away from his pan, quietly observing him as his eyes fade to yellow and deep purple.  
“Is he going to be okay?” Latula asks, normally loud voice soft and sad. After a long moment, he shakes his head no. The whole world seems to stop. “Is he gonna live?” She asks, and edge of hysteria in her voice. He nods, backing away slightly.  
“What even happened?” Kankri murmurs, unusually quiet. “Was it Damara?” He doesn’t reply, just looking at his moirail. Why did he have to fight him? This could have been simple … fine even. He’d just have a haze where the day had been, maybe chalked it up to getting high.  
“Kurloz.” Porrim says, tapping his shoulder. He looks to her, narrowing his eyes. She raises an eyebrow, and hands him a small pad of paper and pen. He doesn’t take it, just holds up his broken arm. He wouldn’t be writing anything for a good minute. “Hm.” She throws the paper back into her sylladex, taking his arm.  
“That is so triggering…” Kankri murmurs. “Porrim you should examine him in private so anyone with sensitivities towards medical procedures and … gore … won’t be triggered.”   
“Kankri, no offense dude but now is not the time.” Latula sniffles, wiping her face with her sleeve. “We lost Horuss and Damara in one day, and now … now Mituna too. What are we gonna even do?” She takes Mituna’s lax hand in her own, holding it to her cheek. “I need him to wake up already. Kurloz woke up in no time!” He’s distracted by Latula, too distracted to realize what Porrim is doing until it’s happening.

She pops his bone back into place. It hurts like a bitch, and he snarls and rips his arm away, holding it close to him. Kankri flinches, but Porrim just raises an eyebrow.  
“Don’t be a wiggler, Kurloz. I’m just setting it for you.” She folds her arms. He just glares at her, moving back to Mituna. “We should get him in a coon or something.” She adds. “I feel like that would be marginally better than laying outside in the dirt.”  
“I can take him to my hive.” Latula offers, and he shakes his head. “He’s my quad too, you know!” She snaps.  
“Yes, well, this does seem to be more pale territory than anything.” Porrim comments. “Can you carry him with your arm like that, Kurloz?” He pauses, and then shakes his head. She sighs softly. “Very well.” She kneels, and gently picks Mituna up. He’s taller than her, making a slightly odd picture as he’s carried bridal style towards his hive. He gets up, and the parade of losers follow. He directs Porrim to his couch for now, and she sets him down gently. He ducks out of the room for a moment, grabbing a spare shirt and a pair of boxers before coming back in. He’s careful of his arm as he unzips Mituna’s suit, intent on making him comfortable.  
“Kurloz, not while we’re here!” Kankri squeaks, covering his eyes.  
“Honestly Kankri, it’s just his body. You’re just the same under your ridiculous leggings.” Kankri glares at Porrim, but Kurloz ignores their pale/pitch vacillation and gets the top half of his suit off, pulling the shirt on over his head. Latula’s hands appear, helping him. He gives her a sideways glance, but she steadfastly ignores him in favor of helping her matesprit.

When he’s all set they all sort of stand there, watching him. Kurloz plays with his hair gently, watching him breathe.  
“We should go, Kankri.” Porrim murmurs. Kankri nods.  
“Latula?” Kankri asks. Latula shakes her head.  
“Is it cool if I hang around, Kurloz?” She asks. He hesitates, but nods after a moment. “Thanks.”  
“Alright then … I’ll have to go assess the damage with the rest of our friends.” Porrim says. They leave, and the three of them are left in silence. Latula takes Mituna’s hand again, not saying anything. He prefers it that way. Slowly, he becomes aware of the fact he’s covered in blood again. He pulls away from Mituna, making Latula glance at him.  
“Where are you going?” She asks. He points to him, and then upstairs, and then gestures to the blood on him. He needs to take a shower, immediately. “...Oh.” He tilts his head, and points to her, then Mituna, then down. Are you staying? She nods. “Yeah … yeah, I’m staying. Man … I should brush up on my sign huh?” She manages a tight smile. He shrugs a little. He didn’t care one way or another. “Uh yeah. Alright. Um.” She’s at a loss as to what to say, and Kurloz just walks away. As long as someone was with Mituna, that’s all that mattered. Once he gets into the bathroom and locks it behind him, he leans against the door and breathes. It’s all catching up to him now that he’s stopped. He can’t stop the tears from coming, doesn’t care enough to. He cries silently. He’s always been a quiet crier, when he got to that point. He lets out a shivery sob, shaking a bit. He allows himself this second, a small moment. What has he _done_? He knew it was bad, but he couldn’t even tell how bad until he woke up. It could even be temporary. But it probably wasn’t. Probably permanent damage. Probably wouldn’t ever be the same.

He wiped his eyes. It was time to push this down. His pathetic feelings on the matter wouldn’t do anything for anyone, and standing around crying was the last thing he should be doing now.

Kurloz hisses softly as he takes his shirt off, inspecting his wounded arm. The wound in his shoulder wasn’t too deep, and had cauterized as it melted his flesh away, exposing his purplish looking muscle. The only problem was the fabric seemed to be burned to the edges of the wound, making it bleed as he detached it. He rolled the shoulder, wincing a little at the damaged muscle. It would heal, but he’d have a divot. His other arm didn’t look much better, black bruises blooming on his skin. He pokes at it, and a wave of pain radiates from the area. He leaves it alone for now, instead getting in the shower. He cleans himself up quickly, getting dressed in new clothes before grabbing a roll of bandages and making his way back downstairs.

Nothing has changed, Latula is still holding Mituna’s hand gently, eyes only for him. She gives him a quick look, and then back to Mituna.  
“How long do you think he’ll be out?” She asks, brushing hair out of his eyes. Kurloz shrugs, but she isn’t looking at him to see it. “You were up in no time … but you heal pretty fast, don’t you?” She looks to him, and he just nods a little. It was just a fact of life. Mituna was pretty low … and it wasn’t clear how far the damage to his pan extended. Usually though shock only put you out for a few hours. So hopefully that was the timeframe they were looking at. He wasn’t sure what time he went supernova, how long he’d already been out. Probably at least an hour, by the fact that people were seeking him out. Latula kisses him gently, and his lips are unresponsive under hers. She pulls back looking disappointed. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, instead sitting on the chair next to the sofa, running a hand through his hair. Did she expect him to wake to that, like one of those cheesy romance novels Vantas left everywhere? That wasn’t how life worked.

He adjusted his arm gingerly, taking out the bandages. He grit his teeth a little as he pulls his sleeve up, exposing his bruised skin. Latula’s eyes dart to him.  
“Whoa dude, that looks brutal.” She says. He shrugs with his damaged shoulder, trying to unravel the bandages one handed. It wasn’t exactly a cast, but it’s what he had. “Don’t do that one handed, you’ll fuck it up.” He raises an eyebrow at her. “Let me do it.” She hesitates before leaving Mituna’s side, stepping over to him. She takes the bandage from him, and gently straightens his arm. “Lift it up a little, will ya?” She asks, and he does so, observing her carefully. He wasn’t sure what this was. Latula had only ever held mild disdain for him, and it was strange she would care at all. He watches her wind the bandages around his arm tightly and it aches, but it was enough to keep his limb mostly in place. “Jeez, we really should have something for a proper splint.” She says. “Maybe I could alchemize something. Just has to be like. Two boards. Oh hey! Maybe a skateboard?” He tilts his head. Absolutely not. “Yeah, you’re right.” She gives him a tight smile. “How long do you think that’ll take though like that?” He pauses, and slowly fingerspells for her.  
 _”One week.”_ She makes a surprised noise after parsing it together.  
“Dang that’s crazy fast, huh?” He shrugs. Just was what it was. “But you highbloods sure do heal fast! Meenah got the beatdown by Damara, and Aranea says it was pretty bad, but she’s already up and about again.” He goes very still, unsure how to respond to that. “Was it Damara that fucked you guys up? I dunno why she would, I thought you and her were tight. I mean. You’re kind of … well…” She trails off. “I mean you hung out, right?” He makes a vague hand motion.

The scream Mituna woke up with was maybe one of the most terrifying things he’s heard. Latula jumps back and trips over herself, shrieking as she goes down, and he has to say he didn’t exactly sit there stoically. Mituna’s screaming stops and he starts sobbing, yellow tears pouring down his face. Kurloz makes a soft noise, moving to him and using his okay arm to hold him closer. Mituna’s twitchy and jittery, his fingers grab but can’t keep anything in them.  
“K-Ku-r… L-loz?” He manages through his tears. He nods gently, petting his hair. “Can’t … I … words? Can’t … I can’t … why can’t I?” He asks. He’s panicking. “I can’t, I … I-I can’t …” He starts sobbing again.  
“Oh fuck.” Latula breathes, approaching on his side. “Tuna babe, it’s Latula. Me and Kurloz got you now, baby.” She takes his hand. “What happened?” Mituna fidgets.  
“S-something? Bad. Bad, so bad…” He murmurs. “Can’t … can’t remember? I can’t … words are so … can’t remember?” He looks at Kurloz. “Did … I stopped the bad?” Kurloz hesitates, and then slowly nods. A relieved smile crosses his face.  
“What was it, Tuna?” Latula asks. His smile drops.  
“I … don’t … it … agh!! I … my brain…” He stops, pulling away from them to hold the sides of his head. “Huuuurts.” He hisses. “Loz. Loz … it HURTS!” He yells, making Latula flinch. “Makeitstoppleasemakeitstopmakeitstop!” He’s rocking a little, and Kurloz gently places a hand on his forehead. The pairs eyes light lavender at the same time, and Mituna shivers and goes still.  
“What are you doing?” Latula asks nervously. He just tilts his head, moving deeper into his moirail’s head. He finds himself in the middle of a computer glitch, errors popping up everywhere. Red and blue electricity sparks randomly, but nothing like the ocean that used to live inside him. He rifles through his mind like a particularly interesting filing cabinet, trying to pick up which synapses aren't firing correctly.

His language and motor control centers were damaged, black and painful to prod at. He leaves them alone, and sifts through his memories. It seems like he wasn’t entirely accurate at what he grabbed, his memories ebb in and out for this whole sweep, and many of the memories further back have taken on a grayish hue.

He frowns, and slowly retreats from his head, but not before commanding calm over him. Mituna can’t seem to control the ticks he’s developed, hands grabbing at nothing periodically, body shaking ever so slightly. But he’s not panicking, just … sad and confused.  
“S-something … my head…” He murmurs. “Not right?” He asks. Kurloz nods again. “Not good … not good.” He looks at Latula, who has a strange sad feeling about her. Kurloz snaps his fingers, making Mituna look back to him, and he signs slowly.  
 _”Do you understand me?”_ Mituna mouths along as he signs, and then nods.  
“Kind of … hard. Can’t … um. C-can’t follow fast same? Same as you? Not fast.” He settles on. Kurloz nods.  
 _”That’s okay. I’ll talk as slow as you need me to. You did so great, Mituna.”_ Mituna gives him a shaky smile.  
“I-I don’t great feeling. No. Feels not great.” He holds his head, mumbling to himself. “Not feels great?”  
“I don’t feel great, Mituna.” Latula says gently, placing a hand over his. He blinks at her, giving her a nervous smile.  
“You … okay? Yeah?” He asks, and she laughs softly.  
“I’m okay. That’s not what I meant, but don’t even worry about it dude.” She gives him a bright smile. “Are you hurtin anywhere ‘cept your pan, my man?” He pauses, and shakes his head. “As long as you’re still livin’ and breathin’, everything’s gonna be just fine.” She says, bringing his hand away from his face and holding it to her pusher. “I’m so red for you, Mituna.”  
“Red for you, Tula.” He murmurs, tipping his head. His messy curls part and show off his eyes. They used to be neon blue and red, but they’re dull now. Maroon and navy. He wished he knew what that meant, if he had lost his psionics completely or what, he wasn’t sure. Latula seems to be getting cozy with Mituna, leaving him out. Maybe that was for the best. He didn’t exactly think he was entitled to pile time after fucking up his pan like this. “Hey, Kurloz.” He looks up at Latula. “You got any real troll food? Mituna could probably use some.”  
“I’m fine. Hurt. Not hungry.” He murmurs. She presses a kiss to his lips.  
“You sure about that?” She asks. He pauses. “Just eat a little.” He nods, and Latula looks to him again. “Well?” He tilts his head at her, but stands. He didn’t particularly like being told what to do but … it was for Mituna.

He doesn’t have a lot of anything with substance anymore, but he does have cluckbeast broth. He inspects the packaging before shrugging and grabbing a pot, dumping the liquid into it. He turns the stove on, and sets it there to heat a little before doing anything else. He leans up against his sink, looking at his feet. Why did everything always have to go to hell? Did shit always go this south for everyone else too and he was being a little bitch? That was probably the answer, honestly.

He hears Latula walk into the kitchen with her obnoxious red heels clicking on the floor, and his eyes meet hers.  
“Hey.” Her voice cracks, and he looks her up and down. She had been acting fairly self assured in the other block, but now teal tears were welling up in her eyes. “Mind if I sit in here for a sec? Sometimes a girl’s just gotta have a little bit of a breakdown, y’feel me?” She cracks a shaky smile. He reaches out with his foot and kicks a chair away from the table, making space for her to sit down. She takes the chair silently, sitting so she faced him. After a long moment, she looks up at him instead of at his feet. “You’re handling all this pretty well.” It’s not a question. “I want to know what did this.” He raises an eyebrow slowly. “I … it’s okay. To speak in my mind, just this one time.” She says. Her voice is breaking more, and more tears pour from her eyes. “What did this to him?” He wants to laugh at the idea that he necessarily needed her permission to break into her head, but he couldn’t risk her questions jogging Mituna’s memory too much.

Her eyes glow a soft lavender as he pushes into her head, and she gasps as he goes much, much deeper than it took to just talk to someone. It’s hilariously easy to get into her head, considering her aspect was mind.  
 ** _> THE STORY IS THAT NEITHER OF US KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. ONE MOMENT EVERYTHING WAS CALM, AND THE NEXT THERE WAS SOMETHING BEARING DOWN ON US. MITUNA EXERTED HIMSELF TOO MUCH, AND CAUSED SOME SORT OF PSIONIC MELTDOWN. THIS INFORMATION IS ENOUGH FOR YOU, AND YOU WILL NOT ASK MITUNA ABOUT IT AGAIN. YOU WILL SPREAD THIS NEWS TO THE OTHERS, AND ENCOURAGE THEM NOT TO DISCUSS THE MATTER.<_** He pulls back, and she shudders as he leaves her mind. He watches her carefully as she holds her head, making a soft groan.  
“Jeez dude that is not a radical feeling, is it?” She asks, rubbing her temples. “It’s … too bad we don’t know what happened. At least Mituna saved us.” He nods, carefully neutral. Even with the situation settled, her eyes flick over him, indicating she had more to say. He ignores her in favor of stirring the broth a little, trying not to burn it. “Don’t you ever get upset?” She asks eventually. He straightens a little, not expecting this line of questioning. “I just mean … dude. You walk around and you look like you don’t think about nothin’. You barely react when people rib on you, even when Meenah is fuckin’ around. And now … Mituna is ... Well you don’t seem to feel much about it!” He doesn’t respond, just stirs the pot more. He judge’s that it’s sufficiently warm, and cuts the heat, feeling Latula’s eyes burning through the back of his head. He ladles half of it into a bowl, and sets it down in front of Latula before fixing another bowl. “What’s this?” He ignores her, and brings the other  
bowl out to Mituna.

Mituna looks up at him sharply as he walks in, and sets the bowl down in front of him.  
“‘s Tula ‘kay? She steamed … seemed… upset.” He says. Now that everything has calmed down a little, he notes that Mituna’s lisp is back, worse than ever.  
 _”Latula is worried for you.”_ He signs briefly, pushing a spoon into Mituna’s hand and closing his fingers around the handle. _”Sorry I don’t have much to eat around._  
“Trying to tell her. I did. No food here. Why would you half foods?” He mumbles, stirring the broth around a little. He’s able to use the eating utensil well enough on his own, which is a small relief. 

The two are quiet for a bit, and Latula doesn’t come out of the nutrition block. Kurloz gradually wills himself to relax, sitting back on the couch and inspecting his range of motion on his arm. Mituna eyes it.  
“What happens?” Kurloz looks at him and tilts his head a little. “ _Happened_. Jeez.”  
 _”I fell. Panicked and braced myself”_  
“Look real bad.”  
 _”It was pretty bad. But Porrim jammed it back in place.”_ Mituna pushes the empty bowl onto the coffee table, and starts to get up. Kurloz sets his good hand on his thigh, gently keeping him in place.  
“Lemme go.” Mituna says, pushing his hand away. “I gots to … got to try. Don’t hurt. Just … head … head hurting.” Kurloz pulls away after a second.  
 _”I can’t catch you if you fall is all. I’ll pop my arm out of place.”_  
“Whatever I’m catch myself. Duh.” He says, and then pauses. “Maybe. My psionics work?”  
 _”I don’t know. I think you have limited abilities, at best.”_ Mituna frowns and holds a hand out. After a second, his hand sparks a little, and goes out.  
“Oh.” He says softly.  
 _”I don’t know what you did. You went … supernova. Knocked me out, and whatever was attacking us.”_  
“Superednova, huh?” Mituna murmurs, and then snaps his fingers. There’s a small arc, and he swears as it backfires and shocks him. “Fuck, shit, ow!”  
“Tuna?” Latula clicks out of the kitchen. “You okay?”  
“I can’t … my psionics gone.” He tells her. He’s tearing Kurloz apart with how sad he looks, but he couldn’t have stopped that. Mituna did it to himself, all the damage in his head was him. He  
was only responsible for the memories. If only he had relaxed and just. Let Kurloz do what had to be done. Or swayed him into cooperating. Something.  
“They’re not … gone, gone, though, are they?” She asks. He snaps again, and nothing happens. He frowns, and tries again. This time a bigger arc than the first appears and hits the table, leaving a rather large hole in it.  
“Fuck.” Mituna says, eloquently.  
“Don’t burn the house down, little dude!” Latula laughs softly. “It’s okay though, you know? You’re still you. That’s all we want.”  
“Don’t beeslittle … belittle me. You’re areally nice to try and makes me feel better but.” He trails off, and then gets up. Kurloz’s good hand immediately goes behind him in case he falls, but he seems to get up … okay. He braces on the arm of the couch, looking unsteady.  
“You okay?” Latula asks, voice full of concern.  
“I’m going. Upstairs. I’m be fine.” He says, insistently. “It’s just … can’t balancing very good.” He frowns a little, aware he didn’t say that quite right. “Feel funny.” He elaborates more, and then scowls.  
“It’s okay. We understand.” Latula says gently. “Are you sure you don’t need help going upstairs?”  
“YES!” He snaps, and Latula flinches. Mituna doesn’t seem sorry in the least. “I can does this alone. Listen t’me!” Latula backs off, holding her hands up. “I’m going.” He lets go of the couch slowly, and makes his way to the stairs. He stumbles a few times, and Latula visibly holds herself back from helping him. As he makes his way upstairs, Latula sits down on the couch hard and holds her head in her hands. She’s crying again, Kurloz can kind of see her tears as they drip down her face.  
“Why do things always have to go so wrong for us?” She whispers, and Kurloz isn’t sure what she wants from him. “Every … every single time something good is happening, the universe takes it away from me.” She looks up at Kurloz. He tilts his head a little. “I wish you could just talk. You always had a lot to say before, even if it was mostly religious garbage. Which is fine.” She presses her lips together and looks down at her hands, steepling her fingers together. “I just realized, actually, that I’ve known you for sweeps, and I don’t really know anything about you at all.” He rolls his eyes since she can’t see him. Maybe he wanted it that way.

Instead of subjecting himself to what was probably about to be a heartfelt monologue about friendship and loneliness and fate, he stands up. Latula watches him get up, frowning.  
“Dude, I was talking to you!” He ignores her, grabbing a discarded hoodie off of a chair. He rifles around in the pocket before pulling out his baggie with his weed and his piece. He sits back on the couch, beginning the process of grinding it up. “Is now the time for that, man?” Latula asks. He glances at her, and then shrugs. Felt like a good time for it. He packs the bowl and snags one of the lighters off the table. If she didn’t want to, he couldn’t care less. He lights up and relaxes against the back of the couch. Latula watches him for a moment, and then holds her hand out. “You in a sharing mood?” He passes, and she takes a hit. “When did everything get so fucked up? One minute the biggest problem is Kankri’s injustice of the week and a really hard video game boss. The next your friends are dying, your matesprit’s pan gets damaged, and you still gotta figure out how to kill the King and Queen.” He’s disappointed that this method was ineffective at shutting her up. He just takes the pipe back and takes a hit. “Did you ever think you would be doing something like this? Like when you were a wiggler?” He shakes his head briefly, taking another hit before passing. “Yeah … man I just don’t know what we’re doing. Like do you ever think about how our lives woulda gone if Meenah never asked us to play that game? Do you think someone else woulda played it? Was this inevitable?” Kurloz closes his eyes and sighs deeply, rubbing his temples. He absolutely did not want a heart to heart right now. “Am I boring you or something, dude?” She asks. He growls softly. His head hurts, his moirail is fucked, he ruined Damara, and all Latula wants to talk about is existential bullshit. If only things were so simple that you simply had to worry if there was some kind of plan for you, if you had free will. Who cared, now?

_You and I both know there is no such thing as free will. Any true believer knows that._

“Kurloz?” Latula’s voice seems almost distant to him.

_Refraining from your instinct is only delaying your plan, so carefully thought out. So why don’t you just … **give in.**_

He opens his eyes, and Latula’s worried ones search his for something. She laughs nervously.  
“Haha … dude. Your pupils are like … super slitted. Are you okay? Did you damage your pan back there?” She’s backing off subtly, and he tracks her movements. “Okay. You know. Maybe I should check on Mituna. Maybe he can come down and uh. Talk you outta whatever’s goin on up there.”  
 ** _< GET OUT. DON’T COME BACK.>_** Latula flinches as he forces his way in, and then relaxes abruptly.  
“Oh … okay…” She says, almost dreamily. “Sure thing, man.” She gets up, and heads out the door. He watches her go, and he hears the same cold laugh in his head from before.

_Oh, isn’t this so much more fun? Doesn’t it feel better to just say and do what you want?_

He glances back at the stairs, wondering what Mituna would think of this. He’d be so-

_The psionic will never be the same troll you loved again. Who cares what any of them think now?_

He can’t help but … agree. Who was left to even care about what he did? He’d destroyed everyone he cared about. He might as well burn the rest of them down too.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh i wasn't gonna finish this due to perceived lack of interest but i got a rly nice comment n was like :,o) okay ill keep going. anyway. chapter eight!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tfw ur morals start slipping :oi

Kurloz wakes up with a start, pusher hammering in his chest. It takes him a moment to acclimate to the situation at hand, which was probably not an ideal time to pass out.

He glances next to him at Meulin, who’s giving him a worried look.  
 _”Are you okay?”_ She signs, and he nods. She gives him a small smile, going back to reading Meenah’s lips. Like anything she says is even worth listening too.  
“I know that we’re … down a few playahs, but that doesn’t mean we’re givin’ up.” Meenah says, confident. Next to him, Mituna fidgets silently. He’s holding the helmet Latula had alchemized for him to his chest, hugging it like a comfort object. Kurloz feels a twinge of guilt before he quickly buries it.  
“Vwe should all just off ourselwves at this point. It’s not like vwe’re gonna vwin vwith two of our povwerful players gone crazy and pandead.” Cronus snaps, arms folded tight over his chest.  
“‘m not fuckinged pandeads!” Mituna snaps. Cronus flares his fins at him.  
“Face the facts Captor. You’re useless.” Mituna curls into himself a little.  
“Am not! You’re useless!”  
“At least I can walk a straight line.” Cronus says carelessly. Kurloz stands up, eyes narrowed at Cronus, but Latula gets to him first, fist connecting with his face. Cronus swears colorfully.  
“Don’t talk to him like that! He’s still a person!” Latula shakes her hand a little as he nurses his bloody nose. Kurloz watches with no small amount of satisfaction.  
“Vwhatevwer, bitch.” He mutters, backing down like a woofbeast with his tail between his legs.  
“Will everyone shut the fuck up? I shoald never have thought I could direct any of you glubbin losers. Where even are Horuss and Rufioh!” Kurloz watches Latula front on Cronus before he makes the wise decision to sit back down. Meulin takes his arm, gently pulling him back to his seat.  
“Probably still crying and holding each other.” Porrim says, inspecting her claws before applying another coat of black claw polish.  
“Are you SEARIOUSLY painting your claws right now?” Meenah screeches.  
“If I don’t paint them now, when will I find the time?” Porrim asks evenly. Meenah facepalms.  
“I’m done. We’re launching the assault on the black king tomorrow.”   
“Why not now, since you’re so invested in this suicide mission? Make sure we all die.” Aranea comments. Meenah gives her a glare.  
“I’ll go one on one with this motherglubber if I gotta.” She says, folding her arms.   
“Oh how brave of you.” Aranea quips.  
“Go fork yourself, Aranea!”  
“Fork?” He hears Kankri ask dryly, humor in his voice.  
“Like my trident, basshole!”  
“I think that one might need a little more time in the character creator, girl.” Latula says, flipping her hair over her shoulder.  
“Like your bass is any betta!” Meenah huffs.  
“Everyone, please. Shut up. Let’s prepare for a week, and then launch our assault. Give us a moment to breathe, it’s been a rough week.” Aranea says, and Meenah sighs.  
“Fine. Fine! One week! And if any of you bitch out I’m krilling you myshellf!”

“Well that was … aggressive!” Meulin says cheerfully, sprawled over Kurloz’s lap.  
 _”Can you expect anything else of the heretic princess?”_ He signs flippantly, taking a drag off his pipe.  
“Stoppit callin’ alla them heretics, will ya?” Mituna grumbles. “y’do it alla time now.”  
 _”I can sign whatever I want.”_ Mituna makes grabby hands for the pipe. _”Get your own, freeloader.”_ He quips before passing. He lights the pipe for Mituna, waiting for him to take a drag before moving away. It had been quickly determined that lighters were a hard no, along with anything sharp, prolonged proximity to skateboards, and up to 90% of unsupervised outdoor activities. Mituna swung from being aggressively upset about his situation to totally docile fast, sometimes spanning less than a minute for what could only be classified as a tantrum before he acquiesced to whatever was being asked. Kurloz gently takes the pipe back, and Meulin snatches it before he can take a hit. He narrows his eyes, making her giggle.

_You could have her … if you wanted._

Kurloz wants to stab the voice at that insightful commentary. She didn’t love him anymore, so fucking what? He wasn’t going to fuck up her pan in some sort of desperate, pathetic attempt to repair his red quad.

He’s jerked out of thought by Meulin booping his nose.  
“Gotcha! Don’t be so serious, Purrloz! You look like you’re all upset when you do that with your face!” She sits up in his lap, pressing against his front so she can hold his face in her hands. “Don’t be such a grumpy kitty!”  
 _”I am not a grumpy kitty.”_ He signs, and she giggles.  
“Whatefur you say!” She kisses his forehead, and he tries to remain carefully neutral over the situation. Meulin was constantly affectionate, even towards people who treated her cruelly. She was just wonderful like that. The touches and cuddles meant nothing, at the end of the day.  
“Haha nasty!” Mituna snickers, and Kurloz glares at him. “You two should just bone already!” He’s in one of his upswings now, it seems. Meulin looks at Mituna because Kurloz is, confused about what was going on.  
“What did you say, Mituna-fish?” She asks, tilting her head a little.  
“I SAID you twos should fuckin’ BONE ALREADY!” Kurloz covers Meulin’s eyes before he gets more than three words in. “Needa get it goins on.”  
“Kurloz!” Meulin whines, and he lets go. She pouts at him, and it’s adorable. “What’d he say?”  
 _”He said your sweater is cute.”_ He deflects. She clearly doesn’t believe him, but the compliment is a sufficient distraction.  
“You think so? Purrim helped me make it! She’s so nice, right Purrloz?” The sweater in question is olive green with a black cat on it, and it’s clearly Meulin’s work. Porrim must have barely kept it from falling apart. Nevertheless, it is adorable, if only because of how proud she is of it.  
 _”She certainly is something.”_ Meulin beams, taking that as a good enough answer.  
“Hey Mituna-fish! Is Lap-tula gonna come ofur?”  
“Lap-tula?” He laughs. “That was a bad one, MN!” She pouts again, folding her arms.  
“It’s cute!”  
“Nuh-uh!”  
“Yeah-huh!”  
“Nuh-uh!”  
“Yeah-huh!” Meulin blows a raspberry at Mituna, who reciprocates. Kurloz rolls his eyes. “It’s like how purr-beasts lap up milk!”  
“Yeah buts no one’s gonna fuckins GIDDIT!” Mituna says, dramatically.   
“I’d like to see you do better!”  
“LA, duhhh.”  
“But that’s not cute at all!”  
 _”Is Latula coming over or not because I never said I was cool with that.”_ Kurloz signs, frowning. Both Meulin and Mituna make over-exaggerated noises of displeasure.  
“Lap-tula is purretty fun, Purrloz!” Meulin says. “And you two would be so fun in a spade, don’t you think, Mituna-fish?”  
“Uggghhhhh! Stoppit! Lozzie not into her like tha’!” Mituna says. “But I did says that she might be good to be here. Maybe.”  
 _”Why do you have to inflict her presence on me.”_  
“She’s not that bad!” Meulin protests, and flicks him. “Play nice!” He pauses.  
 _”Fine.”_

_Put them in their place. Beneath you._

This voice was really starting to piss him off. The worst part about it is that he can’t say that these thoughts weren’t things he had thought in the past. He’d never hurt Meulin or Mituna … on purpose. On purpose was an important addition, considering it was his fault that Meulin would never hear again. He didn’t want to take the blame for Mituna, but he knew that in the end, it was on him. He should have let the voice destroy him instead. He wasn’t sure of the consequences of that, of disobeying, but it hurt to look at his diamond now.

_There is no disobeying. There was never any other path. Your choice is nothing but an illusion._

There’s a loud knock on the door, and Mituna scrambles up. Kurloz has to throw his good arm out to keep him from crashing, but he brushes it off, bolting to the door. Kurloz smiles a little as Mituna goes to let Latula in.  
“They are so purrfect together, don’t you think Purrloz?” Meulin sighs, looking wistful. His pusher hurts.  
 _”I’m glad he’s happy. That’s all that matters.”_ He can hear Latula’s loud voice from the front door, talking to Mituna in her usual, upbeat way. Mituna trips over his words talking to her, but Latula is surprisingly patient and gentle with him. After a moment, Mituna drags Latula into the gathering block, and she waves nervously at them.  
“Hey! What’s happenin’ Kurloz, Meulin! We got a party brewin’?”  
“Oh you fuckings know it, Tula!” Mituna laughs. He loses his balance a little, and Latula grabs his arm, holding him steady.  
“Where’s that sick helmet I made for you, Tuna-babe?” He shuffles a little.  
“I don’ like wearin’ it.”  
“Yeah, but it’s like super not-rad to fall and bust your head open, Tuna. It looks sweet on you, too. Outfit essentials, baby.” He perks up a little, and Kurloz lifts the helmet off the table, tossing it to Latula. She catches it easily and hands it over to Mituna, who fumbles putting it on. Latula straightens it, getting it just right over his horns. “There we go! Very rad. Right Kurloz?” He makes a lazy hang ten sign, and Latula cackles. “Come on, let’s get settled!” She helps him over to the couch, getting him comfortable before sitting down herself, leaning against the arm and putting her legs over Mituna’s lap.  
“What’d you think of the meeting, Lap-tula?” Meulin asks, and she winces a little, not used to Meulin’s volume.  
“It was … pretty crazy!” She laughs, an edge of nervousness to her voice. “I mean … unreal that we’re gonna go toe to toe with this final boss in a week. Feels like we gotta do more grinding before we do that. But I’m not gonna let my girl face them alone!”  
“I dunno how useful I’ll be in the fight!” Meulin giggles. “I have my claws, but I’m still not one for fighting!”  
 _”I think you should stay at your hive.”_ Kurloz signs casually, handing Latula the pipe. She takes it silently, flashing him a smile.  
“Purrloz, why!” Meulin pouts.  
 _”No reason to go. I’ll go, but you don’t need to. We won’t win anyway.”_  
“How do you know? I wanna go to the fight!”  
 _”I just do.”_   
“Wait, hold up! Kurloz, you can’t tell her what to do!” Latula interjects, and he gives her a look. “Meu, you don’t wanna miss out on all of the sick action!”  
“Yeah!!! Please Kurloz?”  
“You don’t need his permission!” Kurloz groans quietly, rubbing his temples. Why Latula insists on throwing everything off the rails for him, he has no idea. “Don’t be a jerk, Kurloz, she’s capable in a fight!”  
 _ **< ENOUGH. MEULIN IS NOT GOING, AND SHE DOESN’T WANT TO EITHER. MITUNA WILL ALSO NOT BE GOING. EVERYONE HERE UNDERSTANDS THIS, AND IT IS THE END OF THE DISCUSSION.>**_ The three of them go under easily. It’s too easy, honestly, makes it harder to rationalize not just using this to get whatever he wanted all the time.

_And why shouldn’t you?_

He sighs and closes his eyes, dropping the effect. When he opens his eyes again, everyone looks a little confused and tired.  
“I guess you’re right … I shouldn’t go.” Meulin murmurs.  
“Yeah, it’s kinda dangerous for you, Meu. And you, Tuna-babe.” Mituna looks the most confused, hands under his helmet and rubbing hard at his eyes. Latula gently guides his hands down. “Don’t scratch your eyes out, babe.”  
“Feelth weird.” He whines. Kurloz frowns a little, but Latula seems not to think much of it, just handing him the pipe and lighting it for him.  
“You’re okay, li’l dude.”  
“Not li’l.” He insists, taking a hit. “Just fucked in my pans.” He lets the smoke out easily as he talks, still able to do that just fine.  
“I know. Sorry, babe.” Latula presses a kiss to his lips, and he can tell Mituna is startled. He kisses her back quickly, a little more sloppy than he usually is. Latula laughs into the kiss before pulling away.  
“OMG you guys are just SOOOO cute!!!” Meulin squeals. Latula blushes teal.  
“Thanks, Meu!” She laughs. “Just makes sense that the two raddest trolls evah make the raddest couple evah!” She cackles, and Mituna grins happily.

Latula leaves after a few hours, stoned out of her pan, and Meu isn’t far behind her, leaving him and Mituna to smoke themselves out alone. His diamond is clearly bothered by something, almost shredding his lower lip with his fangs. Kurloz gently pulls him closer, swiping his lower lip away from his fangs gently with his thumb. Mituna whines softly, and fidgets with his hands.  
 _”What’s your deal, bumblebee?”_ Mituna huffs a little, and doesn’t reply. _”Little Bee, I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s bothering you.”_ Mituna is silent for a moment, playing with his hands, twisting his fingers together and avoiding Kurloz’s eyes.  
“I feel so slow.” He says eventually. Kurloz tilts his head. He pauses before continuing. “‘M not smart as errybody no more. Can’t fuckin’ … think no more. Sentences are bad. Can’t walk right. Gotta wear the stupid halmet. Cronus k-keeps … shoving it in my face. Beesin a … a jerk about alla this shit.” Kurloz can’t see his eyes with the helmet on, but he knows he’s starting to cry. “Was always try and being my black quad an’ … an’ now he’s just be like … awful? Not pitch. Just mean.” Kurloz gently pulls Mituna into his lap so they’re facing each other, his long legs on either side of Kurloz’s.  
 _”Your ability to speak and maneuver doesn’t affect how smart you actually are.”_ He signs slowly. _”You’re still you. A little more reliant, but still you. I love you. Everyone that matters loves you. And since when did we ever care about what Cronus has to say?”_ He manages to draw a hesitant little smile. Kurloz gently takes his helmet off, setting it on the couch beside them. His fluffy hair is pressed flat, and Kurloz runs his claws through his curls, shaking them up and making him giggle. His heart kind of melts at that sound. Mituna never used to giggle, but he seemed to have less reservation now. He said what he thought, did what he wanted, consequences be damned. It was adorable, even though some of his decisions stopped Kurloz’s pusher. He was sure that him dying from a skateboard accident wouldn’t count as Heroic or Just, but he didn’t want to see him like that, ever, ever again. He presses a gentle kiss to his forehead, and Mituna presses into him.  
“Pale for you. Pale like … like stars, and lususes furs.” He mumbles, and Kurloz holds him tighter, returning the sentiment. “‘M tires now. Tiered? Ugh. Sleepy. W’nna go coon now, c’n we?” Kurloz nods against him, picking him up carefully, trying not to aggravate his not-quite-healed arm.

Mituna clings to him tightly as he carries him upstairs, playing with Kurloz’s curls. “Your hair messy. Tangle all up, Loz. You not been brushin’ it ‘gain?” He asks, a tone of disapproval to his voice. Kurloz can’t help the small smile on his face. “Looooz! You haven’t. Impassible, you are. Impossible, whatever. Let me brush it?” He pushes open his block’s door, setting Mituna gently on the pile. Mituna looks up at him stubbornly. “Loz. Brush!” He makes a waving motion, going into his ablutions block and grabbing his brush before ducking back in. Mituna makes grabby hands at him and he arranges himself next to Mituna in the pile. Mituna beams and scrambles closer, starting the tedious process of pulling apart his tangles. He’s going to look ridiculous with his hair brushed out, but he could just wash it in the morning. Mituna’s not as gentle as he used to be, but he doesn’t even flinch, purring for him steadily. A responding purr rises in Mituna’s chest, and it’s incredibly sweet. It was … normal. Nice. He could pretend that the game never even happened when they were like this together.

_So you ruin his pan, and now you think it’s appropriate to snuggle with him? Aren’t you twisted…_

His purr stutters, and Mituna makes a concerned noise.  
“Loz? Okay? You hurt?” He shakes his head quickly.

_You’re better alone, better as you naturally are. Send the psionic away, you do not deserve his kindness. I shouldn’t have to tell you this._

He wanted Mituna. He needed him, he made him better.

_He makes you weak. He makes you **useless.**_

_”Mituna, I … my head hurts, that’s all._ He signs quickly. He wasn’t going to listen to the voice right now. Hadn’t he done enough already? Couldn’t he just have one thing?

_You’ve been gifted with so much that you do not appreciate. You can break these trolls, make them do as you please. Instead you get high and purr and laze around. You haven’t done hardly anything, did not even efficiently do as I asked of you._

He shivers as the voice starts to make his pan hurt, squeezing his eyes shut.  
“Oh no … oh no, Loz, wait, don’t … don’t lose control, I don’t can’t do nothin’ for you no more, please, calm down Lozzie!” Mituna sounds so upset, and he cracks his eye open. He can’t lose control now, Mituna might get hurt now.

_You can though. What does it matter? You can make him forget you ever hurt him. You’ve already done it. What’s one more grievance?_

Kurloz gets up abruptly, running a hand through his hair shakily. He can feel his loss of control. Unacceptable, absolutely not. The air is heavy with his voodoos, and he knows it’s a losing battle, roping them back in.  
“Where … Loz, n-no, i’s okay-” He waves Mituna back.  
 _”Stay. I need to do something.”_ Mituna seems hesitant, and his eyes narrow. _**< STAY.>**_ Mituna relaxes back into the pile, and Kurloz almost races out of his hive.

He realizes maybe five minutes later he’s shoeless, and not really sure where he’s going.

_What are you doing?_

His teeth grit as he buries his hands in his hoodie pockets, stepping onto the transporter. Meulin is only a hop away.

_Going to take what you want?_

_No._ He just needed … someone more capable right now. Meulin could hit back if she needed to. He flashes, and he stands on the pad in Meulin’s land. Some consorts are startled by his appearance, and bolt away.

_I will allow you to tell yourself this lie._

Did this asshole ever shut up? A growl is starting low in his chest, and it tapers into a whine as a bolt of pain hits him. Message read loud and fucking clear. Gods. Can’t handle a little criticism, can’t take a fucking insult.

_I shouldn’t have to. I am your God._

Which one, then? Definitely not Mirth. Too cold to be Rage. Who is this? Who the fuck is in his head?

He stops in his tracks. Who the _fuck_ has he been listening to?

_**< WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?>** _

The world seems to still for a moment. The ambiance of Meulin’s land goes dead, and he freezes in place, all of his alarm bells ringing.

He gasps as a bolt of pain goes through his head, holding his forehead as his vision whites out for a moment, or maybe a year.

When the light clears, he feels foggy. Slow. He hesitates, rage and confusion mixing in his head. What was he doing? What was he thinking?

He … was … going to see Meulin. He needed to calm down, because he didn’t deserve to be with Mituna. He felt.

So…

Angry.

His hands clench balling up into tight fists. His claws dig into his hands, and he feels them punch through his skin, into the muscles of his palm. Something wet drips down his claws and down onto his knuckles, and he knows it must be blood, but the pain is grounding. He was in control. He had to be in control. He steps off the transportalizer, towards Meulin’s little hive. Her porch creaks, and he lifts up the mat, picking up the key. It wasn’t as if she could hear him knock anyway. He slams the door behind him, and feels out for Meulin. She’s in her gathering block, and he lets her know of his presence, grasping at her mind and tugging to get her attention. He hears her drop something with a soft thud, surprised by his arrival.  
“Kurloz? I can feel you in my pan, what are you doing here?” He stands still as he hears her feet hit the ground, walking carefully into the entryway. She pauses, looking him over. “Oh … Kurloz, are you okay?” He slowly shakes his head no, and Meulin looks … scared. He can’t explain why this makes him more frustrated. “Where’s Mituna? Do you want me to help you to his hive?”  
 _”Can’t hurt him. Hurt him too much already.”_ Meulin’s eyes flick between him and the shut door behind him. He suppresses a growl. He wasn’t a threat. He wasn’t a threat, but everyone he loved viewed him as one. Mituna said as much before he went supernova, apparently ready for the day he had a total breakdown. And now Meulin? What did he do to her? He’d never been anything but sweet to her.  
“Did you do something to Mituna?”   
_”Are you afraid of me?”_ He asks instead, and Meulin fidgets a little. The answer couldn’t be yes, could it? Her hearing ... Gods, he knew it was his fault for that, but it wasn’t on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt her, he _never_ wanted to hurt her.  
“N-no… I mean. I just don’t know what to do! We’re not quadranted anymore even. I-I … I don’t know how to help you when you’re in an episode, Kurloz!” He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. “I barely ever see you like this, I’m just … wary.” He opens his eyes, and she takes a step back. His eyes narrow.

_She loves you still. You just have to make her remember that._

“Did you do something to Mituna, Kurloz?” She asks again. Her voice is a little more unsteady now.  
 _”I broke his pan.”_ Meulin blinks once.  
“You … you did that to him?” She asks softly. He nods slowly. He feels the anger draining out of him, sadness welling up in him.  
 _”I’ve been making some bad decisions, Kitty. Something’s wrong with my head.”_ She opens her mouth, and then shuts it again, rocking on her feet as she tries to figure out what to say. _”Something’s all up in there that’s telling me to do shit. They’re not so nice.”_  
“We have to … Kurloz, we should talk with everyone and figure this out.” She says gently. “I’m sure we can all figure out what to do.”  
 _”No one can know.”_ He insists.  
“But-”  
 _ **< DO YOU EVEN LISTEN TO ME? I SAID NO ONE CAN FUCKING KNOW.>**_ Meulin gasps softly as he yanks her under.  
“Okay…” She mumbles softly.  
 _ **< AND YOU … IF YOU CAN’T KEEP IT QUIET, DON’T FUCKING REMEMBER IT EITHER. UNDERSTAND?>**_ She nods tinily. For a moment they just stand there, and he feels so empty. This didn’t fix anything. His head still hurt, he could still _feel_ him in his fucking head, taking up space and making himself so fucking comfortable.

_You can’t get rid of your Gods that easily. You’re a true believer, and we know this. That’s why we need you to just listen to us._

He shudders, eyes closing briefly as a wave of nausea goes through him. He opens his eyes, looking into Meulin’s empty ones, still under his influence.  
 _ **< WHY ARE YOU SCARED OF ME? WHY DON’T YOU FEEL ANYTHING FOR ME ANYMORE?>**_ She stays silent, and he knows that her words are not hers right now, knows that all she feels is what he feels, all she thinks is what he thinks. She can’t tell him why she didn’t love him any more than she could tell him why his Gods being in his head made him feel so sick. He closes his eyes, sighing deeply. _**< WE HAVE TO BELIEVE THEY KNOW WHAT’S BEST.>**_  
“The Gods are wise, the Gods know what is best.” Meulin says dazedly. “We cannot go wrong under their word.”  
 _ **< WHAT ELSE CAN I DO?>**_  
“Our own minds are weak. Our own plans are flawed. The Gods see everything.” These are not Meulin’s words. Barely his own words. It’s what he wants to hear, but even though he knows that, the words are still reassuring. “Bend to the holy words, Kurloz. It’s so easy, to do what is planned for you.”  
 _ **< ENOUGH.>**_ Meulin blinks a few times, looking dazed and exhausted, but herself again.  
“...Kurloz? Oh … What are you doing here?” She asks, a smile on her face. She was so sweet, still so happy to see him. It made him feel like a person again, even though the only reason she was happy to see him was because she couldn’t remember him as a threat.  
 _”I was just leaving. Remember, Kitty?”_ She pauses.  
“Oh I … Weird! Obviously, yeah, I just … my head is real foggy. Sorry Purrloz!” He tilts his head a little. “It’s late, isn’t it? You should get back to your hive, silly cat! I’ll see you soon, okay?”

_Are you done with your little tantrum? Ready to do as I ask?_

He presses his lips together as steps out, shutting the door behind him gently. He’s sure the answer is yes. Everything around him leads him deeper down this path, reinforces that there was no other option.  
There was never any other option.  
There was never any other path.  
All that there was, was him.

Him, and his Gods to guide him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what whaaaaat. anybody else obsessed with motionless in white's new album cuz ive been blasting disguise into my eardrums for days now, so that's what i was listening to the whole time i wrote this. if this is bad i didnt get a beta read so whatEVER


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wwe smackdown if wrestlers had psychic powers and also were allowed to kill, brutally.

It smells like blood.

It’s probably only so strong because Kurloz is bleeding out, but it’s all he can focus on. He dodges another swipe from a carapaces sword, and retaliates with a club to its head. It sinks in and sticks, and he has to rip it out, spilling its weird pink and red gore everywhere. It splatters onto him, mixing with his own purple, and he shudders, trying to get a feel for his own damage. He drops his club, looking to the gash in his side. It’s sickeningly fascinating to see almost inside himself, his muscles shifting with his movements as he tries to stay balanced. 

He can hear Meenah sobbing, and it sounds fairly close. His eyes dart over the carnage being spread over the ornate battlefield, and his eyes land on her, arms around Aranea. A massive hole pierces her abdomen, her intestines spilling out onto Meenah, and Meenah just sits there, holding her close. He can see Aranea still moving, barely, holding onto Meenah like she can save her.

They’d been fighting a losing battle since they got here. They were expected, apparently. Not by the Kings, though they were more than ready, but by Damara.

Her red energy buzzed on his skin, even though he wasn’t her focus at this second. Damara hovered above Meenah, a vicious grin splitting her face. Her hair billowed behind her as she pointed her needles at her.

_**NO.** _

Kurloz tackles Meenah out of the way of the channeled blast, barely moving her out of harm's way. Meenah screams like he’s killing her, losing her grip on Aranea’s prone body and letting it fall victim to further mutilation. She hits him, nailing him in the gash in his side, and he has to grit his teeth to keep from ripping his stitches with his scream.   
“Get off me you STUPID FUCKER! ARANEA!” He rolls himself away, only able to lie prone as pain radiates from his side. Meenah scrambles to get to Aranea, half buried in rubble.

He knows he has to get up, he has to, and it takes an immense amount of effort to stagger to his feet, just in time to see Damara impaling Porrim on some piece of debris. The point pushes through her skin sickeningly, bone fragments and gore spilling out through the hole made through her right side, just through the bottom of her ribcage. Porrim is still alive, screaming as her body is mutilated. Her noises take on a wet tone as her own blood enters her lungs. Her body is thrown to the ground, and the sudden silence is even more disturbing than her panicked screaming. Kurloz stares at Damara, who observes the remainder of their group with a sneer.

Rufioh, coward that he was, was gone. Horuss had followed. Kankri looked rough, a deep gash on his cheekbone streaming crimson down his face, his anger quickly fading into horror. Latula is the most stable, uncertain what to do.

“I’ll KRILL YOU!” Meenah screams, and Damara dodges the sloppily-thrown trident with ease, and the electric feeling in the air grows more intense. Apparently she had pulled Aranea’s destroyed body from the wreckage, and fuschia tears streak her face. So she was dead, then.  
“Meenah! We gotta get out of here!” Latula’s voice is desperate and pleading, clearly terrified. She has every right to be. Kankri has fallen, now, not incapacitated, though he’s set his scythe down to place his hands on Porrim’s body, shaking as he tries to help, somehow.

“Hey! Over here, bitch!” A blast of energy nails Damara in the shoulder, and Damara screams, her electric red energy dimming a little. She falls a few feet, but catches herself. Cronus looks smug, shouldering his weapon like an idiot and entirely too pleased with himself for someone who’d been hiding for the majority of the fight.

The smug look is wiped off his face when he’s lifted into the air, and Damara ragdolls him a fair distance away. She sobs as she looks at the chunk of burnt away flesh that’s been taken out, her energy coming and going like a failing lightbulb. It suddenly gets blinding, and with a flash she’s gone, the image of a gear seared into their eyes.

It’s almost too quiet for a battlefield now, and the four of them are too stunned to move. After a moment, Latula swears, and sprints off into the distance, where Cronus was thrown. Kurloz’s attention is pulled away from that to where Meenah has picked up Aranea’s prone body. She runs with her towards the transportalizer, and then they’re gone too.

Kurloz drags himself over towards Kankri and Porrim. Kankri’s looking rough, but the damage is comparatively superficial compared to the rest of the group. Kurloz’s vision is a little fuzzy around the edges, but that was fine. Probably.

“Kurloz I- She’s n-not breathing, I don’t-” Kankri’s ministrations are incredibly ineffective, considering Porrim has been dead for a minute now. Kurloz kneels next to Kankri, putting a hand on his arm. Kankri’s eyes dart to him, bloodshot and filled with tears, and Kurloz tilts his head a little, and then takes his other hand and forces Kankri’s face to hers, pressing their mouths together. It’s not the best plan, but people dying of blood loss weren’t known for being rational.

Kankri flails for a moment before Kurloz lets him up, determining that that may as well have been an actual kiss.  
“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!” Kankri shrieks, and Kurloz shrugs, deciding it was time for him to lay down and die already. His head is swimming, and pain radiates from the gash in his side, and he just wants to fucking sleep. His eyes slide shut, and Kankri’s voice sounds far away as he starts to drift.

 

Kurloz opens his eyes.

It’s hideously bright, and he groans softly to himself, rolling over onto his side and closing his eyes again. It hurts to move, badly.  
“Stop moving, you idiot.” He hears, and he ignores whoever it is in favor of trying to sit up. He’s promptly shoved back down, and his eyes open again. Porrim looks down at him sternly, and he can see stained bandages wrapped in an odd way to cover the area where her wound was. Her skin seems to be the source of the odd brightness, filling her immediate surroundings with fluorescent white light. His eyebrows furrow, and he looks her up and down. “Stop fucking moving.” She says again, sternly, and he reluctantly relaxes back against the … couch he’s laying on. Now that he’s aware of his surroundings, he recognizes this as Porrim’s gathering block, from the one and only time he’d been there. “Latula dragged your ass out of there, so you better thank her next time you see her. Otherwise you’d be dead.” He points to her, and then her wound on her midsection, drawing a question mark in the air. She presses her lips together. “Well. I suppose I owe you a thank you as well. Without your intervention I’m sure Kankri would still have been holding my body like a wriggler toy and crying.” Despite her harsh words, she smiles a little. Kurloz rolls his eyes, uninterested in Porrim’s obvious pale intentions towards the annoying little mutie. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. Asshole.” Porrim stands, and he watches her go over to the table and snap shut her sewing kit. “I’ll go let them know you’re awake.” She says, and leaves the room. Kurloz closes his eyes again, relaxing back into the couch. He gets a moment of silence before the door slams open and Meulin bursts in, crying. Kurloz’s eyes open again, and he struggles to sit up, able to see Meulin and Mituna coming in. He sucks in a sharp breath as Meulin throws herself into him, squeezing him tightly.  
“I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE OKAY!” Meulin sobs, and he pets her hair gently, hoping she’ll loosen her grip just a little. She does not.  
“Meulin, you’ll rip his stitches!” Porrim says, irritated. Meulin backs off reluctantly, olive tears still streaking her face.  
“I’m sorry!” She says, looking even more distraught.  
 _”I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.”_ Kurloz lies, and she gives him a shaky smile. Mituna shuffles a ways away, looking a little nervous. Kurloz holds out a hand to him, and he takes it, allowing himself to be pulled in. Kurloz presses his lips to Mituna’s forehead when he’s in reach, and Mituna smiles.  
“W’z worried, Kurloz.” He mumbles. Kurloz makes a soft, reassuring noise, nuzzling him. “You okay? Good?” He nods. His whole body was screaming in pain, but he didn’t need to know that.  
“Kurloz is going to have to stay here for a while.” Porrim says, speaking gently like one would to a child.  
“He’s okay!” Mituna protests, and Kurloz can see this developing into a full blown tantrum fast. He takes his hand gently, drawing his attention back.  
 _”Just a few days.”_  
“But I want you to stay with me’n feel better! You’re my di-man!” Kurloz pushes his wild hair out of his diamond’s face, smiling a little to him.  
 _”I can’t be moved a lot right now. Only if I need to. You can come visit me, though.”_  
“But right now, Kurloz needs to sleep.” Porrim interrupts again. This is met with a chorus of whining and “no!”’s from the two, and he can’t help but smile fondly. “Yes. It’s critical he get his sleep now, or he’ll get sicker. Do you two want him to be sicker?”  
“Nooo…” Mituna pouts.  
“Exactly. You said your hellos, now let me fix him up.” Her voice is firm, and eventually, she gets the two of them out.

She collapses into a chair, sighing dramatically. Kurloz supposes he can allow her a little dramatics due to her recent death and subsequent resurrection.  
“I have absolutely no idea how you deal with them. They are a handful.” Kurloz rolls his eyes, busying himself with inspecting his bandages. “Stop _touching_ , my god.” Porrim hisses, eyes narrowed. “It was enough of a hassle to shove your intestines back in the first time.” He blinks at her, an eyebrow raised. “No, not literally. Well. You could certainly see them. But no, all you were dying from was massive blood loss. And maybe major head trauma, but no one can tell the difference, don’t worry.” He flips her off, and she simply smiles. “I’m going to make some food. How do you .... eat?” He rolls his eyes. With both his translators gone, this visit would be difficult. Instead of replying, he closes his eyes, the idea of falling asleep again really quite appealing. “Well alright … I suppose I’ll see what I can stick into a blender for you.”

 

He wakes up again to voices, indistinct and far away.  
“...The Scratch…”  
“No, we can’t…”  
“The only … don’t pussy out on me, Maryam.”  
“I have to agree with Meenah, Porrim I…”  
Kurloz groans softly, and the voices fall silent.  
“Is he awake?”  
“Does it matter?” He can tell that’s Porrim, and she sounds upset. “If you want to do this, we all deserve a say.” There’s a lull in the conversation as whoever speaks next lowers their voice, inaudible to him now. He braces himself, pulling himself up slowly. His wound throbs, but he stands anyway, limping his way into the kitchen.

Porrim, Meenah, and Aranea all sit at the table, each holding a cup of tea like they’re discussing the weather. They all look at him, falling silent immediately.  
“I told you not to get up.” Porrim snaps, but her voice has lost its usual command. She looks tired and upset. Kurloz just shrugs, leaning against the doorway and watching them.  
“Listen, Makara, can you go exist somewhere else for a while? I’m trying to have a conversation here.” Meenah snaps at him.  
“Meenah, please…” Aranea says gently, placing a hand on her arm. Meenah pauses, and sighs.  
“It’s still nothing to do with him.”  
“He probably just heard us talking and was curious.” Porrim stands. “Anyhow, I think we’re done discussing it for now. Kurloz, did you want something to eat?” He nods a little, eyeing Meenah and Aranea, who seem troubled. “Sit down then, at least. I don’t need you ripping yourself open.” He sits, across from Meenah. She narrows her eyes at him.  
“Busted yourshellf up good, I heard.” He barely keeps his lip from curling at her as he nods, turning it into a little smile. He tilts his head, eyes turning toward Aranea, and back to Meenah. He’s obviously disturbing to them, which is more than fine. He couldn’t care less how they felt about him. His task was to keep the key player alive, not to make her like him. “Um.” Meenah starts, then pauses. “You saved my bass during that fight. And while you were bleeding out, too.” She pauses again, the words seeming to hurt her to speak. “Thanks, I guess.” He shrugs, and Aranea rolls her eyes.  
“That was really the best you could do?” She asks under her breath, irritated. Meenah folds her arms, seeming not to see the problem.  
“Here.” Porrim interrupts, sliding a bowl of microwaved broth in front of him. “Do you need a straw, or..?” He nods, and she sighs, grabbing one and setting it down on the table in front of him. She takes her seat back, playing with her cup of tea absently. “This has really been an unusual few days.”  
“I have to agree.” Aranea sighs, rubbing her temples. “And I think as we are now, there’s no way we will ever win this game.”  
“How can you be sure?” Porrim asks harshly. Kurloz sticks the straw into the bowl, listening to the conversation raptly.  
“I’m not.”  
“Then why are you going through with The Scratch?” Ah. He thought he heard that. So it was happening now, then. He feels a heavy sadness settle over him. So this was it. These were their last days.  
“What alternative do we have? We’re burning through our lives like crazy, here.” Meenah huffs. “I’m pretty sure that I would have been dead for real if that blast hit me. Why not give someone else a chance?”  
“You’re going to have to convince everyone on this. Including me.” Porrim says plainly.  
“All we can do is give you the facts, Maryam.” Aranea’s voice is hard. “The Scratch will allow us another life, still, one where we don’t remember this, but also one where we have a second chance in a new environment. Wouldn’t you like that? Perhaps there you wouldn’t be confined to the caves, and Kurloz…” He waits as she struggles to recall a single fact about him. It takes too long, and she pulls a face. “Well, I’m sure there are things you would have liked to do differently. This Scratch we’ve been discussing, it gives us all a chance to live a new life.”  
“And you’ve failed to mention that he would cease to exist as he is now completely.” Porrim snaps.  
“Well, I was getting to it!”  
“You seemed to be spending an awfully long time expressing the positives, though.” The two glare at each other, and Meenah eyes him over.  
“Mituna would have a second chance, too, y’know.” She says. He tilts his head. “Yeah. A second chance to be himself, right? His pan would be healed.” He was already willing to go along with this, he had no other choice. Meenah had no need to convince him. But the fact that … Mituna would be whole again… “I guess that’s just something for you to think about.”

Kurloz can’t communicate with her, even if he wanted to, so he just stands, pushing the food away. Porrim makes an irritated noise, but he ignores her in favor of going to lay back down on the couch. As he walks away, he can still hear Aranea murmur, less than subtly to Meenah.  
“Jesus. What a freak.”  
He sighs to himself, inspecting his bandages. Blood was seeping through them, and he closes his eyes, pushing down the irritation. He can hear them talking, and then the front door opening and closing.

Porrim steps in, eyes going straight to his bandages.  
“Of course you reopened it.” She sighs. She grabs the first aid kit, still not quite put away, and kneels in front of him. “Stay still.” He does his best, and Porrim carefully unwraps him, peeling away the bandages and the bloody gauze. The wound itself is huge, and he hadn’t really grasped how big it was until he wasn’t dying. It stretches from just below his ribcage, across his side, down to his hips. The stitches seem intact, but blood seeps from the wound. “I’ll have to be right back, it needs to be cleaned again.” He nods, and she stands. He watches after her, still unsure what she had been through. All of the signs pointed to … something. But that was just ridiculous. She wasn’t a rainbow drinker.

He doesn’t have to dwell on it long, she’s back quickly, carrying two bowls. She hands one to him, and he realizes it’s the broth. “You do have to eat something.” She tells him, kneeling again. Her other bowl is filled with a cloudy, soapy looking mixture, and two washcloths hang from the edge of it. “Just eat, please.” He sips at the broth as she dips a cloth into the water, wringing it a little. It doesn’t sting as she gently wipes away his blood, the wound just aching dully. “I never knew Damara was capable of … that.” She murmurs, busy with her work. “I can’t…” The look on her face tells him she’s remembering, vividly, what it felt like to die. “She really did a number on us.” She sets the first washcloth aside, covered in his blood now. She has an odd sort of look on her face, but she just takes the clean cloth, wetting half of it and pressing it gently over the wound.

She dabs it dry once she deems it clean, and smears some sort of ointment over it before pressing gauze back on. The bandages are wound around his body tightly, ensuring everything stays where it’s meant to. He’s long since set his empty bowl to the side, and she gathers it up, looking a little satisfied with her work.  
“Good. Feel better?” He just nods, inspecting her work. He didn’t doubt her abilities, though she really did seem to know what she was doing. “Good. Don’t touch. I’ll be back in a moment.” She disappears again, and Kurloz leans back against the couch cushions. When she appears again, she sits next to him, closing her eyes and holding her head in her hands. Kurloz watches her carefully. “You knew what they were talking about, right? With The Scratch?” She asks, looking over at him. He nods a little. “Can I tell you something?” He tilts his head, and nods a little. “I hate this stupid game.” He nods again, a smile playing on his lips. He felt similarly. “Is this some sort of karmic punishment for all of us being terrible? Or just because we were all, yet again, stupid enough to do something Meenah suggested?” He holds up two fingers, and she laughs bitterly. “Yeah. Oh well.” He shrugs, and they lapse into silence for a moment. His eyes slide shut as he lays against the couch, exhaustion tugging at him. “Another life, though, huh?” She mumbles, and he cracks an eye open to watch her. “Doesn’t sound so bad. Not when this is this life. What do you think? Are you with her?” He hesitates, then nods. “Yeah. I figured you would be after Meenah started using Mituna against you. I get … so tired of her.” He raises an eyebrow. “She’s my friend. But she’s also incredibly cruel. Earlier she was screaming threats at those two … Mituna and Meulin … for not showing up. Actually tried to stab Meulin. And then she has the nerve to come in here and play nice with you. Well, as nice as she gets. She doesn’t care a bit about other people, I think.” Porrim sighs, standing carefully. “I should get to bed, and you should too.” She says, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch. “Sleep well, Kurloz.” He watches her as she makes her way out, flicking the lights off to the room and leaving only the table lamp on. The hive is quiet, save for the sound of Porrim climbing her stairs, and the sound of her bedroom door clicking shut. He sits in silence for a long moment, trying to gather up his own emotions, but he just feels blank. Empty. There wasn’t much for him to do, now. Only wait, patiently. He could do that.

He lays down carefully, covering himself in the blanket. It doesn’t take long for sleep to mercifully take him, and the real world to fade away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long i have crippling depression:o)

**Author's Note:**

> destroyer - ruby haunt  
> hello thank you for reading. if you read this youre better than most people. comments and criticisms welcome.  
> if you like this and want to be subjected to my thoughts hourly you can follow my tumblr @ helldyke420  
> if you hate this and want to leave me anon hate, you can send it to my tumblr @ helldyke420


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